If I Could
by ImpossibleSociety
Summary: Clary Fray has spent the past two years with her father Valentine. But now she's back , better than ever, but with an overprotective brother named Jonathan and his soccer team, things might not go as they were planned. All Human
1. Chapter 1

Please Review!

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Clary felt something warm and sticky dripping from her fiery hair and down her face. Her breathing was becoming rapid and shallow, her hands clenched into fists and her eyes narrowed. "I'm going to kill you," the words left her mouth in a snarl, not bothering to even turn around. By that point her breathing was ragged, as if she were an asthmatic on the verge of an attack.

There was a quiet chuckle behind her. "Sure you are. Go on; try it. I bet you couldn't even touch me before-agh!"

His taunting was cut short when Clary spun and pounced on him, knocking him flat on his back. She pinned his arms above his head and looked down at her brother with mix of both smugness and loving irritation etched across her face. "I hate you."

Just to show how much she meant it, she tilted her head forward. The syrup that Jon had just poured on her head inched its way down her scalp and landed with a soft patter directly onto his cheek. She couldn't help the feeling of satisfaction that coursed through her when she saw his look of disgust. Fighting to hold back her laughter, she grinned.

"Gross, Clary!" Jon managed to squirm his way out of her grasp and scramble up to her feet. "You're evil, you know," he said, admonishing her with a wag of his finger.

"Please. Me? I'm not the one who poured syrup onto their assimilating sibling," Clary retorted, accentuating her statement with a roll of her eyes.

"Assimilating? Really? What in God's name has dear old dad done to you?" Jonathan looked his sister with an expression of mock horror. "You've gone missing for two years and all of a sudden you're like a real lady." At this his dark eyes softened and met her green ones. Smiling wistfully, he pulled her into a gentle hug.

Clary melted into him, tears pricking in her eyes before she pulled back and punched him lightly in the arm. "Moron," she said, without any antagonism in her voice. With a final playful shove, she trudged up the marble steps in their house towards the shower. She could hear Jonathan laughing behind her. Walking into the gilded bathroom, Clary stripped off her shirt and smiled faintly to herself. Shaking her head, she remembered how excited Jon was when she had arrived back home. Their father Valentine and mother Jocelyn had gotten their divorce finalized three years ago and Valentine wanted time to spend with his daughter. So off she went to live with her father, traveling from Rome to Germany, from Italy to Ireland.

And while Clary was with Valentine, Jonathan and Jocelyn moved from Washington to some obscure city in the Massachusetts. But now Clary was back. Starting late- it was already well into September- she was ready to start her junior year, with Jonathan as a senior. Being the co-captain of the soccer team, Jon was popular. Clary didn't mind; she preferred to watch from the sidelines, only stepping in when needed.

She stepped out of the shower. Wringing her hair out, she loosely wrapped a short white towel around herself, using one hand to hold the ends together. Padding out of the bathroom and heading to her room, she heard the refrigerator door slam shut and a distinctly masculine voice. Jonathan, she thought, rolling her eyes. He could always eat as if he hadn't seen food in months. Reaching the ivory double French doors that lead to her room, yes, her family was that rich, she turned the handle. Then jiggled it. Refusing to budge, Clary finally threw up her hand in exasperation. Still clutching the towel, she bent down to examine the handle. It seemed to be jammed; she would need something to jab into it for it to become unstuck. Sighing, she skimmed gracefully down the stairs. Turning the corner to the massive kitchen, she called out, "Hey, Jon? My bedroom door won't open; do you know where the screwdriver is? I really-"

She was abruptly cut off as she heard low whistles and a couple of voices muttering, "Damn." Turning her head, she saw... guys. Way more than before she had left to go take a shower. There were around twelve of them, half of them with their jaws dropped and all of them staring at her soundlessly. Clary blinked. "Look at that. Wishing wells do work."

One of them snorted. He smirked at Clary in amusement. She glanced at him, giving him the once-over. Good Looking. _Tall. Blond. Arrogant. Ass_. All that passed through her mind in a flash, and she couldn't help the grin that crooked at the edge of her mouth. "Like what you see?" he asked, his unnaturally golden eyes sparking mischievously.

"You wish," she shot back, her vivid green eyes challenging his.

"Shit, Jon never told us about his hot girlfriend." This coming from an attractive guy with sandy brown hair and a splash of freckles.

At this Clary felt her blood boil and her face burn a bright crimson. She opened her mouth to start swearing at the boy but her brother beat her to it.

"MARCUS, WHAT THE _FUCK?!_ THAT'S MY _SISTER_!" Jonathan came storming into the room, wedging himself through the small crowd and came to a stop in between Clary and the blond-haired boy. "Jace, dude, what the hell are you doing with my sister? And seriously, Clary? What's with the towel?

At that her face turned even brighter, and in return all the boys' mouths dropped open again. "She-she's your sister?" the boy-Marcus asked. Clary was getting impatient. She sighed and turned to Jon. "Look, it's not my frickin' fault. You never told me you were bringing people over and my door got stuck and, you know what? Just forget it. Where's the screwdriver?"

Jon, too stunned to respond, just pointed at a cabinet well above her height of five feet. She rolled her eyes and tucked in the corner of her towel so that both of her hands were free. Trudging up to where the cabinet was, she was aware of all the eyes following her. Clary looked up at her new adversary- tall things. For the umpteenth time that day, she sighed. Then she jumped up in an attempt to reach the brass handle and failing miserably. She tried a few more times before pausing to hang her head. After a few seconds, she turned and glared at the mass of testosterone.

"A little help?" She couldn't keep the touch of sarcasm out of her voice. Jace was the first to unfreeze. She smirked, which Clary realized was his signature move, but he swiftly walked over, deftly reached up and opened the cabinet, and pulled out a plain red screwdriver. He held it out to her, and she took grasp of it, but he didn't let go. Stooping down to her level so that they were face to face, Jace looked at her and held the object between them like a promise. A secret. Clary looked at him for a beat. Then another. Finally she tugged the screwdriver out of his hold and smiled.

"Thanks," she said, and she smiled, then turned and left, leaving them all standing in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey Guys! Thanks for all the great reviews! (Altough the one about hurting me was slightly frightening.)**

**Sorry it's not that long, but I'm really new to this. It took me a half hour just to figure out how to add a chapter. That and my computer went all glitchy for a while.**

**Please Review!**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**Disclaimer: Do I need a disclaimer? I didn't have one for the first chapter... oh well. We all know I don't own The Mortal Instruments. If anything though, I want a stele. Those are so cool.**

JPOV

Holy shit. Holy shit. That was the only thing going on in Jace's mind as he watched Jon's younger sister flounce out of the room. In only a towel. A towel that was short enough to show of the curves of her legs and- goddammit. He stared after her, unable to say anything. All of a sudden, he was aware of Jon's menacing eyes boring holes into him. After all, who could blame him?

Jace was a player. He knew it, accepted it, hell, he was even proud of it. He was captain of the soccer team, one of the best in New England. That in itself should have gotten him an endless supply of girls, and it did, but it wasn't just that.

He was a god. At least, everyone assumed he was. He was golden, literally. With his unruly fair hair and honey eyes, he was acutely aware of how much female attention he attracted. Especially with his body. How could anyone resist?

Apparently Clary could. Her beautiful green eyes had stared straight into his, and he was sure he had her hooked. Until she pulled away. A small smirk appeared at the side of her mouth. His signature smirk. For some reason this drove him crazy, and he had to fight to keep himself from kissing it away.

Jace Lightwood did not chase after girls. They came to him. And it was true that they never lasted more than a few days, never longer than a week. Some of them didn't even make it through the day; he was a kiss and leave kind of guy. He broke all of their hearts, but the thing was, he didn't really care. His popularity was never decimated, so why did it matter?

All of a sudden, he was jolted back to the present when Jon slapped the back of his head. Hard.

"Dude, what the hell?" Jace asked, startled at the quick flash of pain.

Jon glared threateningly at him, a fierce scowl on his face. "What do you mean, 'what the hell?' You know what I'm talking about."

Jace shrugged, nonchalant as ever. "You never actually said anything, and even thought it's sometimes believed otherwise, I am not a supernatural being that can read minds."

Before Jon could go completely off on him, Marcus, another teammate, stepped up. "Hey man, why didn't you ever tell us about your hot sister?"

Another few people murmured in agreement, nodding their heads. One guy, Will, one of the forwards and a junior, asked Jon eagerly, "You think you can hook us up?" The look on Jon's face now said enough, and Will shrank back in retreat with his hands raised in surrender.

For some reason this made Jace ball his hands into fists and clench his teeth. It took a moment for him to realize he was even doing it, but he relaxed and hoped no one noticed. Jon sure didn't because he was too busy trying not to explode.

He jabbed his finger wildly at all his teammates, his voice a growl as he spoke through his teeth. "I swear to God, if any of you even touch her, I'll kill you. Got it? Because I swear, if I find out that one of you got anywhere near her, I'll- oh, hey, Clary."

At once his voice became modulated and calm. Jace turned his head to see Clary walked in, now unfortunately wearing clothes. Even so, they didn't cover up too much. She wore a pair of short white shorts, just barely touching her wrists when she walked. On top she had a plain blue tank top with her hair pulled into a loose ponytail, a few curls hanging loose around her face. Her bright hair contrasted her clothes, making it look like it wasn't on fire, but rather fire itself.

Head phones were stuffed into her ears, and she was singing along to P!nk. Completely ignoring the argument at play, she glided up to the fridge, still singing.

And Jace was in awe. He had never heard a voice like hers. By all means, she wasn't the best singer he had ever heard, but it was filled with a sweetness and innocence he hadn't heard ever before. At odds with the lyrics that poured out of her mouth, her voice was smooth.

Struggling to appear normal, he pasted on his classic smile, the one that drove girls mad. But not Clary. He couldn't stop the little voice that chimed in his head; he couldn't block it out, no matter how hard he tried.

She opened the door of the fridge, bent down, goddammit, enough with the bending down and the legs and- pulled a Coke out of the drawer. Skipping lightly to the counter a few yards away, she hopped up on it gracefully and sat on the edge. Cracking the top noisily, she finally stopped singing so she could take a sip.

Jace swallowed thickly.

Finally looking at her audience, she blinked, and pretty brilliantly, said, "Hi." Clary probably hadn't meant for it to be anything more, just a simple greeting, plain and casual. But to Jace he couldn't help but notice the way her lips moves as she talked, how her feet swung gently as she kicked them back and forth...and how completely wrong that was.

He was not the one to go chasing after people. He had plenty of people waiting. People that were plenty beautiful, like Kaelie, who always came running back, no matter how many times he pushed her away. He didn't need Clary. And even if he wanted her, Jon had threatened to kill him, which he didn't doubt in the slightest. Last time someone ate the last slice of pizza that he had claims, two chairs ended up across the room and a bloody nose ensued.

This was his sister. Somehow it seemed a little more important than a slice of pizza. There was no telling what he would to. Jace almost cared enough to be scared. But only almost.

Jon began to usher people out of the kitchen and into the living room, shooting warning glances every once in a while.

As Jace was ambling out of the room, Alec, his adopted brother sidled up to him. He had a smug smirk on his face. Always being able to read him better than most, Jace wasn't surprised. He knew exactly what Alec was thinking.

After his father died almost ten years ago, the Lightwoods had taken him in. Both Alec and Isabelle, his new brother and sister, had been wary at first, but eventually warmed up to him. His adoptive parents, Maryse and Robert had been kind to him, always supportive even when he had turned into an ass.

"Shut up," Jace muttered, shoving him so Alec almost stumbled into the doorframe.

Alec was gay. At first it had weirded him out, but now it seemed natural to him. He had a very sparkly and very gay boyfriend named Magnus who felt the need to bedazzle rainbows on every article of clothing. Ever since they had started dating, Alec had seemed happy, but now he kept trying to set Jace up. With a "real girl", he'd said. "Not one of those glorified bitches with twenty pounds of makeup on their faces." At that Jace had laughed, but he knew Alec was talking about Kaelie.

Jace glanced back one last time. Clary was leaning back, one hand braced behind her on the counter top while the other one clutched the can of soda. She stared at the window with a small smile on her face, and he couldn't help but hope she was thinking about him.

CPOV

Clary had her ear pressed against the wall. " I swear to God, if any of you even touch her, I'll kill you..." she heard her brother trail off angrily.

She couldn't help but be mad. He had no say in who she wanted and who wanted her. This time, she wasn't going to sit back in the shadows. She was going to do something.

A smile appeared on her mouth. _Game on, big brother._

_Game on._


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, so I have a quick question. Would you guys rather have me update shorter chapters pretty much every day or have longer chapters every few days? I keep wanting to write more but I just don't have enough time in the day!**

**Please answer and review!**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments**

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CPOV

She was dying. A heavy weight blanketed her, pushing the air out of her lungs. She struggled against the pressure, but her arms were pinned down to her sides. Panic started to take over. Thrashing wildly, she was about to scream in terror when the strange force disappeared. With a gasp she shot straight up, hyperventilating.

Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, Clary looked around her room. Dozens of posters were plastered to her walls, the vibrant purple and orange underneath barely visible.

At the end of her bed sat Jonathan, fighting to hold in his laughter. He lost. Cracking up, he clutched at his stomach before toppling onto her bed face first.

"You. Freaking. _Asshole._" she growled, accentuating each words with a pound to his back. "I can't believe you!"

"Hey, I'm just evening the score," he said, referring to the day before. As soon as everyone had left she had burst into hysterical laughter, imitating how her brother acted around his friends. According to Clary he was a,"douchy idiot with an unconsciously deeper voice and testosterone pumped up to the max." Jon had pretended not to hear.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Come on," Jon rolled his eyes, "get dressed. Your first day! We have to leave in forty-five minutes." He chucked a pillow at her already mussed up hair and strolled out of the room.

Clary rolled her eyes before moving to get dressed and brush her teeth. She dusted on a minimal amount of makeup, the slightest hint of blush, a narrow ring of dark eyeliner, a coat of mascara, and a pale beige eye shadow. At the last minute she smeared on a pink gloss, smacking her lips together twice.

Bacon. Bacon bacon bacon bacon _bacon._ The thought that ran on repeat in her head as she bounced down the stairs. Sure enough, there was entire plate full on the kitchen counter, and at the end sat Jon, happily eating it all.

"Ah," she couldn't help but shriek. Making an impulsive dive, she lunged forward and pulled the plate out of his reach. Dancing out of the way, she laughed when she saw Jon's look of horror!"

"That was my breakfast!" he yelled indignantly, but he didn't move to stop her. Instead, he slumped his shoulders in defeat.

"Fine," he said. "But only because Mom's not here. She left pretty early this morning- told me to tell you she'll be back late- probably around eleven or twelve."

Jocelyn was a high profile lawyer. Sure it meant her family was completely and utterly filthy rich, but it also meant little face time. With unreasonable hours seven days a week.

Clary rolled her eyes. This wasn't new. It was one of the main reasons she agreed to go with her father so easily. She loved her mother, but she had always wished she could see her more. But by now, Clary was used to it.

"Whatever," the redhead mumbled, her mouth filled with bacon.

"Let's go," he insisted, snatching the now empty plate out of her hands and grabbing his keys. "We should probably get there early so you can figure out where everything is." He grabbed his backpack.

Together they walked to the door, and Clary grabbed her plain brown satchel off the hook. Immediately her shoulder bent from the weight of it before she straightened herself out. Even before she had any classes, her bag was filled with things, mainly her sketchbooks and pencils she carried everywhere she went.

Making their way outside, she pouted. "Why can't I drive my own car?" she whined, but she meant it. Her car was probably one of her most valuable possessions. Cherry red and incredibly sleek, her convertible was a sort of combined guilt gift her parents had gotten her after the divorce.

"Because," he said, leaning on his slightly more reasonable silver BMW, "we Frays will survive the apocalypse. And if that means sharing the same car to preserve gas and limit the amount of pollution we are creating, that's what we will do."

Clary snorted in amusement, but she conceded and hopped into the passenger seat of her brother's car. The interior was pristine; he never _ever_ let anyone eat in his car. Hell, he had two of those pine tree shaped air fresheners hanging from his mirror. She suppressed a grimace. Her brother was such a _dork._

"Buckle up," he commanded her.

"Why? Is your terrible driving going to kill me? Wait. No. Don't tell me. I don't even want to know."

She buckled her seatbelt.

Finally they pulled out of the driveway, heading to their school.

_This is the beginning of an exceptionally terrible horror movie,_ Clary mused. _I'll be fine. I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine._

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JPOV

"Izzy! Hurry the hell up! Why do you need an hour and half to pick out clothes and do your makeup?"

Izzy poked her head out of the bathroom door. "_And_ do my hair. It's a very precise science." She spoke in a matter of fact tone.

Jace snorted. "A science, huh? Must be why you're failing Chemistry." He heard something heavy thump against the door. "What? All I'm saying is if you spent a little more time with your geeky weasel of a boyfriend and a little less time in front of a mirror, you might actually _learn _something. Think about that." When he said it, his tone was sarcastic, but he actually meant what he said. If only her boyfriend didn't have to be _Simon._

"Whatever." Izzy flung the door open and clacked across the floor in her six inch midnight black pumps. A skintight short black skirt was glued to her long legs and a flowing white blouse hung from her shoulders. Jace, on the other hand, wore a plain white t-shirt and worn jeans.

Alec walked into the room and rolled his eyes. "Really, Isabelle? It's school, not the prom." Alec was the most conservative out of the three of them; he wore a dark sweater and a pair of khakis.

"Please," emphasized scornfully with a flip of her perfectly curled hair. "Wearing this to the prom would be like wearing a trash bag walking down the aisle."

Alec and Jace made eye contact in a silent moment of manly consolidation. Izzy pointed her perfectly manicured finger back and forth between the two of them. "I saw that. Don't think you can pass anything by _me._ Now, let's go. Jace, you're driving. Shotgun!" And with that she opened the front doors dramatically before walking out into the rising sun.

The brothers both chuckled but didn't argue. Alec fell into step beside Jace. "So, you going for Jon's baby sister? She's the new flavor of the week, right? Or maybe that's too extreme? So what is it? Choice of the day? Pick for a few hours?"

For some reason, this rubbed Jace in the wrong way. He bristled in irritation but tried to play it off. Jace knew Alec was right, but he didn't have to say it like _that._

"No way, did you even see that girl? Key word being _girl._ She's a child! What is she; a freshman? Sophomore? Girl's got nothing up top or down low. _So _not my type."

This, at least, was true. All of his girls were tall with legs miles long and busty. If that's what you wanted to call it. And Jace normally went for blonds, not redheads. But something about this girl, about Clary, that put him off. And he refused to be sucked in.

They reached the car. "Nooo, she's a junior like Izzy and believe it or not, she actually has feelings. She's been living with her father for two years and she's an artist."

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. How do you even _know _all this?" Jace stared at him.

Alec gave a half-shrug. "I talked to Jon."

All of a sudden, a deafening blast blared through the air, making them both flinch. It was Izzy, leaning over to the driver side of Jace's Volvo with her hand pressed firmly down on the horn.

"Come on you guys! We're going to be late!"

Seven minutes later they were pulling into Alicante Regional High School. Even though the school was public, it was considered one of the best in the state. Ivy crawled up one side of the building while the other was completely bare. A giant green lawn surrounded the school bordering the vast parking lot.

An entire portion of the parking lot was dedicated to the students. Already it was filled with students milling about and talking to one another. Jace pulled into his usual parking spot; no one dared take _Jace Lightwood's_ spot.

As soon as the three of them stepped out of the car, Jace could almost feel the topic of everyone's attention shift. He smirked.

He opened his mouth, about to say something to his siblings when all of a sudden

They

Were

There.

Jon and Clary. Clary and Jon. She stood there, looking at him with those eyes. Jace couldn't help but look at her, but unlike Isabelle, she wasn't aware of how completely _amazing_ she looked. With black combat boots, dark wash skinny jeans, a shimmering emerald green tank top and a worn leather jacket, she looked beautiful. Beautiful and deadly. _Not a good combination_, Jace thought to himself. But he couldn't help but keep looking.

He _thought_ she was wearing makeup. He couldn't really tell though, because it wasn't pasted on like everyone else. Her brilliant red hair hung in naturally wild curls down to just past her shoulders.

A true Jace Lightwood smile automatically rearranged itself on his face. Jon spoke up first.

"Clary, you met Jace, this is Alec and Isabelle, his-"

"Siblings," Clary finished for him, looking at the trio intensely. "They're siblings. But you," she said pointing at Jace, "you, not by blood."

"And you know this how?" Jace questioned, attempting to hide his surprise.

"I'm psychic." She said this with a completely straight face, and Jace had started to question her sanity when she grinned. "Kidding, I'm just good at reading people."

Isabelle stepped up. "Really?" she asked, challenging her. "And what can you tell about me?"

Clary studied her face intently for a few seconds before replying in an even tone, "Popular. Extremely so. You have a boyfriend, but he's nothing like you. You like attention."

Isabelle blinked in shock. But Clary wasn't done there. She turned her cutting stare to Alec, who squirmed uncomfortably. "You. Loner, but not entirely. Gay?" Alec's eyebrows shot up. "You have a boyfriend though, don't you? Haven't been together long, maybe three, four months?"

"Four next week," he confessed, looking more and more confused.

Jace crossed his arms. "What about me?" He meant for it to come out disdainfully, but in reality he was curious.

"I'm not going to answer that." Her tone was definitive. Confident. "She turned to her brother, who had been standing to the side casually. "I'm gonna go get my schedule; I'll see you later, ok?"

Without waiting for a reply, she walked off, seeming utterly unaware of the people that were staring at her. The watched her go in whispers, their own clusters murmuring about what her relation could be to Jace and the others.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Alec turned on Jon.

"What the hell, man? You told her about me?" He said it with anger, but only mildly. Alec had never been one for strong emotions.

Jon held his hands up. "Hey, I never said anything. Like she said, she reads people. Always been like that- the family freak." He grinned.

Jace stood up straight and uncrossed his arms. "Alright, let's go. Into the dungeon." He gestured dramatically at the pristine building behind him.

And they walked. Into the dungeon.

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CPOV

Clary walked into the school. After talking to the secretary and receiving her schedule, she walked into a wall of flesh. Extremely tall, muscled flesh. She looked up.

In front of her stood a guy, one of the ones from her house the other day. Brown hair and freckles. She remembered seeing him in the crowd, but she didn't remember him ever saying anything.

"Hey, I'm Marcus" he remarked, smiling warmly at her. He stuck his hand out. She liked that. Liked that he could act civil, unlike most of the idiots in this place.

She took his hand. "Hi," she beamed at him. It also didn't hurt that he was hot. So. Fucking. Hot.


	4. Chapter 4

**I will never criticize these writers again. It always sort of bothered me when chapters were so short, but now I realize how **_**hard**_** it is to write such long chapters. I'll try to make this one longer for you guys. And sorry if it's going too slow. Is it going too slow? I'm already three chapters in and I haven't gotten to the actual school scene. Well, at least I'm gettin' to it now.**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah. We know. I don't own The Mortal Instruments.**

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JONPOV

He was worried about her. I mean, two years learning, but not actually _learning_, that outsider artist vibe she had, and the blunt take she had on everything and everyone; she never held anything back. Well, at least not normally. Just look at hat happened ten minutes ago! Somehow it didn't seem ethical for someone to ask another person they just met if they were gay. Well sure, everything she said had been on point, but it wasn't... the most tactical plan of attack.

He was walking with the Lightwoods, about to turn the corner in the hallway to get to his locker, when he heard a familiar tinkling laugh. Jon froze immediately, sticking his hand out to halt the others.

There it was again- the giggle. Jon wasn't sure he had ever heard that kind of laugh originate from Clary. Sure, he had heard her laugh before, hey; he was even there when she laughed so hard she started snorting uncontrollably. But _this_ laugh, _this_ Clary was unfamiliar to him.

Because she was _flirting._ The thought alone was almost enough to make him nauseous. He held his finger up to his lips, silencing the already quiet group. Tilting his head, he tried to make out the conversation amid all the other ones around him.

"...Let me see!" Guy.

"No! Wait! Give it back! Ah, stop!" Definitely Clary.

At this point Jon couldn't stand it anymore, and as casually as possible, he strode up, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

Clary was clinging on to Marcus' back with her legs wrapped around his waist. Marcus, on the other hand, was stumbling around like an idiot trying to see, probably because Clary was using one hand to claw at his eyes. With her other hand she was reaching for a folded piece of paper in Marcus' grasp, desperation and slight amusement written on her face.

She grunted in frustration, reaching even farther and almost toppling in the process. Everyone was staring at them, including Jace.

Yeah, Jon had noticed the way that Jace stared at her, but he knew better than to act on it. He _better_ know better than to do anything.

Jace shoved his fisted hands in his pockets while both Alec and Isabelle mumbled excuses before skirting off to who knows where. Jon, however, jumped into action.

He half power-walked over to the two and easily pried Clary off of his teammates back. She struggled in his arms until he put her down. Marcus spun around with a look of surprise, and Clary seized that as a moment of opportunity. With a final lunge, she snatched the paper out of his hand and hid it behind her back.

"What the hell is going on?"

"He tried to steal my drawing," she blurted out, just as Marcus said, "Nothing."

Jon sighed in exasperation. "_That's_ what this was all about? One of your pictures?" Clary scowled. "Oh no. Excuse me. It's a depiction of your innermost thoughts and feelings that shouldn't be displayed for the entire world to see. Without, of course, your permission." He bowed deeply.

Clary looked around at the accumulating crowd of students. An evil glint started to grow in her eye. Jon knew that look. Before he could do anything, though, Clary had already begun. She flung her arms around Jon melodramatically, crying, "Oh, big brother! I'm so sorry! I never should've doubted you! You were right! That girl really _is_ way out of you league!" She pointed out at random a blond girl standing to the side.

Everyone burst into laughter at this, but there were also several gasps of confusion at Clary's first statement. The news spread like a wildfire.

"Jonathan Fray has a sister?"

"...Why didn't any of us ever know about her?"

"Is she _dating _Marcus? She's hot..."

At that one, Jon grunted in distaste. His cheeks started to burn though, and he hated that they did.

"Alright. Clary, please stop talking. Jace, just bring her to her class; show her around. I'll catch up with you." He was making things up as he went, making split second decisions.

Jace didn't argue, he simply grabbed Clary and towed her in the opposite direction down the hallways, ignoring her cries of protest. Eventually she gave up and went limp, probably trying to make it harder for Jace, but he acted like he didn't notice; he calmly just dragged her along.

Finally Jon turned his back on them, ready to give Marcus a piece of his mind, when he realized Marcus wasn't even there any more. Realizing he must've slipped away while Clary left with Jace, he looked around at his dwindling audience. Even though the bell was about to ring in seconds, people still stayed, wondering if anything else worth gossiping about. With a dismissive wave in their general direction, he sauntered off to his first class.

Calculus. Jon's worst enemy, not to mention their devil spawn of a teacher Mr. Blackthorn, With his hunched over back, wrinkled old skin, and glasses lenses two inches thick (that one may have been exaggerated, Jon admitted), he looked like he should be in a retirement home, not teaching a rowdy group of teenagers. One thing that lessened the torture of the class is that he didn't have to suffer through it alone.

Jace was in the class too. Together they sat in the back of the class, never paying any attention but always managing to get by with passing grades.

He made it into the room just as the bell sounded. Making his way over to his usual seat, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye.

There sat Clary at one of the desks, talking to Jace.

_What the hell?_ Clary shouldn't've been in this class; she was a junior. He walked over. "Clary, _what_ are you doing here?"

She held her schedule out to him with two fingers. "Compliments of our lovely legal guardians." She smiled wistfully.

He snatched the paper out of her hand and scanned his eyes over it quickly. _Oh, no no no no no. This is _not _happening._

There were eight total blocks of time in their school day. Lunch counted as one, thank God, but their core classes were math, English, science, history, and gym. Both of the other two options for classes were open electives- classes that could be chosen based on interest.

So why was _this _happening? Four classes? _Four_ classes with a junior who happened to be her sister?

He loved her. There was no doubt about that. But in all fairness, what older brother wanted to spend his time around his baby sister when he was with his friends?

Clary's scornful laugh broke him out of his reverie. "Yah, I didn't ask for it either. You couldn't at least try to pretend like you're happy?" She cocked her eyebrow at him.

"How is this even possible? You shouldn't even be able to take some of these courses." He waved his hand helplessly at her schedule.

Jace decided to speak up. "Apparently Red's a genius. Aced all the preliminary tests and decided that one of them had inaccurate information," he drawled lazily.

Clary's tiny fist slammed into his arm. "Shut up," she hissed.

"Ouch," he pouted, rubbing his arm in mock-hurt. "What did I do?"

She looked as if she was about to answer. And he didn't like that.

* * *

JPOV

Their tortoise of their teacher chose that time to hobble into the room. "Take your seats!" he barked out in his crusty British accent, lowering himself slowly onto his chair behind his desk. Jace and Jon made their way to their usual seats wordlessly as Clary turned to face the front of the room and pulled out a plain spiral notebook and a ballpoint pen.

As Mr. Blackthorn launched into another mind numbing lecture, the boys did what they normally did. They sat back and watched everything. Or rather, everyone. Namely, Clary. Her pen flew across the page, stopping every once in a while to brush her hair out of her face.

He stared. Stared so much someone would think he was a stalker. He forced himself to look away. Jon might catch on.

"Dude," he whispered loudly. "What's he talkin' about?" Jace nudged Jon with his arm.

"Are you kidding me? How the hell am I supposed to know? Just grabbed my sister's notes." He gesticulated to where Clary was sitting two desks over, still scratching into her notebook furiously.

Jace complied. Stretching his long arm across some random girl's desk he pulled Clary's notebook from underneath her hands. She whipped her head around to see Jace. Glaring at him, she mouthed angrily, "Give it back."

He smirked. Leaning back, he finally looked at the page in his hand.

It wasn't what he was expecting. Covering the entire page was a sketch of city in the distance. Close up were rows of fields and trees and countryside, but a gorgeous cluster of buildings. Old churches with understated arches could be seen.

He was stunned. In less than half an hour an amazing rendition was drawn on three hole lined paper and a simple black pen.

"What is it? Come on lemme see." Jon tugged the book out of Jace's hands, took one look at it and snorted. "Of course. Typical Clary."

She finally snapped. Pushing her chair back it made a loud scraping noise that made everyone around her wince. She stood and took a quick step to where they sat and grabbed her notebook back. Trying to sit back down without Mr. Blackthorn noticing, he edged back to her seat.

Too late.

"Who are you?" She blinked at her, finally realizing the new student in her class.

"Hi, I'm Clary. Clary Fray. I just started here today." The last sentence came out as a question.

"Fray? You wouldn't happen to be related to this bloke, would you?" He pointed his dry erase marker at Jon, who smiled angelically back at him.

Clary was looking more and more flustered. Jace found it surprisingly adorable. "Um, yes sir. That's my brother."

"Your brother, eh? So tell me- are you at least as smart as he is? I mean, it shouldn't be difficult." Mr. Blackthorn cackled.

Jace should have been surprised at how horribly he was treating one of his own students, but he wasn't. Here he was, blatantly insulting Jon, but Jon just smiled, unaffected by it all.

"Tell him, Clary," he urged her. "Show him what you can do."

She shot him a nervous look, and then glanced flittingly at all the other students that were now gawking at her.

"Well, Miss Fray, can you tell me the solution to this equation?" He stepped aside to reveal a complicated problem involving lots of x's and y's and radical signs.

Clary stared intently, here eyes flicking back and forth. It reminded him of not even an hour ago when she had looked at he and his siblings. Her gaze was entirely emotionless. Analytical. Not even five seconds passed before she replied.

"X equals one third plus or minus the square root of seventeen over nine." Utterly confident.

Old Blackthorn's eyes bugged wide and mouth opened slightly in surprise. He took a second to compose himself. "That- that's correct."

A chorus of gasps once again echoed around. Still impassive, she turned and sat down. Out of the corner of his eye, though, Jace saw a miniscule smile form at the edge of her mouth. He couldn't help but smile too.

* * *

CPOV

Just as Clary was walking out of her first class, which had gone splendidly, by the way, a guy came up to her, one that she had noticed at the front of the room. Spiky black brown hair and glittered clothes, she instantly knew he was gay, even before he opened his mouth.

She had nothing against gays. In fact, one of her best friends from before her family had moved was gay. Or at least, she thought he was. He never went out with girls, so she was so sure.

Until he asked her out, that was. She was shocked to say the least. He was her best friend. But she couldn't very well say no, could she? So they went out, if only for a few days, but they did.

Then it got awkward. They "broke up", and before they could patch things up entirely, she had left with her dad. Simon was one of her best friends, and she regretted never making things up to him.

She looked up to see the guy still smiling at her. "Hey," he said, friendly. "I'm Magnus. What you did back there? With Old Man Blackthorn? Genius!" he chortled. "Absolutely brilliant!"

Clary smiled. "Thanks. I'm Clary. You're Alec's boyfriend?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, in a sort of happy confusion. "How'd you know that?"

"Just a lucky guess." She smiled inwardly. _The perks of being a psychic._

Playing up the psychic thing was something she and her brother did when they were young. Their parents always told them to cut it out, but they never listened.

Magnus and Clary started walking together to their next class. "You're gorgeous, you know. I'd kill to have that awesome hair."

She laughed. "Are you kidding me? Half of the time it looks like I just rubbed a balloon all over my heads then ran through a tornado."

They continued to banter back and forth when Clary heard a quiet gasp.

"Clary?" the voice whispered, light as a feather.

She froze and stiffened. That voice she would recognize anywhere. Her own shook with barely contained emotion as she replied. "August 18th."

If it was him, then he would know. And he did. Without hesitation he shot back, "Percy Jackson's birthday. Burnt blue pancakes and a movie marathon."

Clary shuddered, a countless amount of emotions running through her. She turned around, impossibly slow.

The eyes that stared back at her were familiar to her as her own.

"Simon?" she whispered.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Sorry about the sort-of cliffhanger. I'll try to update as soon as I can. I'm getting my stitches out tomorrow! Agh! This is what I get for washing the dishes.**

**Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm hooked. Totally hooked. I kind of keep obsessing over the number of views and reviews I get; it's honestly getting a little unhealthy. **

**Click. Refresh. Look! 8 more views than five minutes ago! Click. Refresh. Ah! 5 more! Score! One review! Seriously. That's me right there.**

**Thanks so much for the awesome feedback! **

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**ImpossibleSociety **

**Disclaimer: All rights go to Cassandra Clare, who lives so close to me I have to fight the urge to track her down. My friends and I have seriously considered it.**

**Also: Is there anyone's POV you want to see coming up?**

CPOV

_"Simon?" she whispered._

Simon broke into a full-blown grin as Clary flung herself at him. "Oh my God! Oh my God oh my god oh my god," she breathed, clutching the back of his shaggy head.

Simon wrapped his arms around her waist. "Hey, Clare, " he said, smiling.

"I missed you," and at that tears started to form in her eyes. The moment was soon ruined as a piercing voice rang out into the air.

"Why are you hugging _my boyfriend?_" It was Isabelle, walking down the hallway at an impressive speed, considering the shoes she was wearing.

Clary raised and eyebrow at Simon. "_You're_ dating Isabelle Lightwood? What happened to sitting in your AV buddies' basements and playing World of Warcraft?"

"Hey!" he protested indignantly, then smiled sheepishly. "Ok, ok, I may still play once in a while," and Clary rolled her eyes. "But I've reformed! It's not as bad as before! Swear," he said, placing his right hand over his heart.

"So Simon," Isabelle butted in gracelessly, "how do you know Jon's little sister?"

"Simon and _Jon's little sister,_" Clary emphasized, "go way back; we were best friends back in elementary and middle school." she smiled fondly at the memory.

Isabelle seemed taken aback; clearly this wasn't the answer she was expecting. "Oh, well, it's nice to know Simon actually had _friends_ before he moved here." Both girls laughed in a first time display of friendship.

"Hey!" Simon yelled, obviously offended.

Isabelle, _Izzy, _grinned. "Come on C," apparently Clary's new nickname, "I'll show you to your next class. Whatd'ya got?"

Clary fumbled with her now folded up schedule in her back pocket. She unfolded it and scanned the paper quickly before saying, "Gym," she replied, silently praying that she didn't arrive during some God-awful segment. Like football.

Izzy's eyes brightened in cheerfulness. "Us too!" She linked her arm through Simon's and Clary stifled a laugh. "Let's go!" she hollered, tugging poor Simon along towards the gym.

The three of them entered the gym and immediately Clary's sense of smell was attacked by the scent of chemicals. She saw the fresh gleam of the newly lacquered floor covered with boundary lines for different sports. Wooden bleachers lined the outside of the gym. Four metal poles were evenly spaced in one line across the middle of the floor. In between the poles were two nets.

Volleyball. Clary had never played volleyball in her life. She knew the basic rules sure, but an actual game? _Shoot me now,_ she thought.

* * *

"Yes!" Clary pumped her fist and high-fived a guy on her team. Her team was _dominating _everyone else's. Mainly because of her.

Who could've known she'd be so _damn _good at this? Certainly not her. Simon was exceptionally grateful he was on her team because, "I'd rather not end up being one of your bowling pins," referring to the time when she had spiked the ball directly onto Izzy's head.

Five minutes later they were out of gym class, sitting at a long lunch table, and Izzy was clutching her head.

"Damn, C. For someone so tiny you sure can pack a punch." She moaned. A piece of pizza lay untouched below her.

Clary couldn't help but giggle. "Sorry, Iz. You really should've been paying attention." It was true. She had been too busy making eyes- _gag,_ Clary thought- at Simon to actually try. She took a bite of her apple.

At their table sat Simon, a pretty brown-haired girl named Maia and her boyfriend Jordan, Aline, a short Asian girl, and Magnus, who wouldn't shut his blabbering mouth. At first she was confused as to why Magnus wasn't sitting with his boyfriend, but then she realized that bad things happened when Magnus was given sugar. And all he had for lunch was a bag of Skittles. After a while she had learned to tune him out. It was a sort of adaptation, necessary for survival for the fear of facing insanity.

A short distance away sat the others, Alec, Jace and Jonathan, and the rest of their soccer team, far enough so they couldn't be heard at a normal volume, but close enough to be heard if someone spoke up.

"So Simon," Clary started, swallowing a bit of apple, "why'd you move here? Here of all people? And didn't you ever recognize Jonathan?"

"Oh, my mom transferred about a year ago. And Jonathan? Hell, Clary, you know I never paid attention to him. All jocks look the same to me." He shrugged.

That, at least, was true. She and Simon spent almost ten years going to school with the same people and he honestly only knew about forty percent of their names.

The table started bantering back and forth, making plans to hang out that night at the Lightwoods' when the heard the same voice from that morning.

Marcus. "Hey, Clary!" He walked toward her smoothly.

"Marcus, " she said, forcing a smile.

"Fancy seeing you here, stranger," he smiled in his arrogant way. Not as arrogant as Jace, admittedly, but it was still high up on the list of cocky guys she had met.

"Oh yeah? And why is that?" she asked coyly, tilting her head. She pretended not to notice the stares from the rest of her table and the ways her brother and his friends acted casual but listened in.

"Because I'm not even in this lunch," and he grinned. Their school divided their lunches into three times to accommodate for all the students.

"Well, congratulations. When you fail Chemistry, at least we'll know why." Marcus' smile grew and he sat down on the bench of the table, facing her. Simons's face screwed up as Marcus' back was now faced toward him. A small smile emerged on her face because of it, but it was misinterpreted.

A primal desire grew in his eyes and he placed his hand on Clary's shoulder. She felt everyone suddenly tense in surprise. Simon, in disgust, Isabelle in an almost giddy fashion, and Jonathan, in a barely managed anger. Fighting the urge to whack his meaty hand off of her, she smiled again, this time much more tightly.

Sure, she had liked him at first. He was just so _charming_ and proper and, let's be honest, ridiculously good-looking. Then he had taken her drawing. Now that was where it had all started going downhill.

No one touched her artwork. That was the number one rule if you didn't want Clary to viciously attack you. Then there was Jace. He had taken her drawing, gotten her in trouble with that old dude, and was a complete ass.

So why couldn't he hate him? Jace was the epitome of all the things she hated about a guy. All right, minus the whole looking like Hercules times ten. But she couldn't find it in herself to dislike him. She sure as hell wasn't going to admit she had a crush on him, hey, she wasn't even sure she liked the guy. But she didn't hate him. And that just _sucked._

"SO," Marcus, randomly blurted, and for the first time she realized he was _scared._ And then she knew what was about to happen. _No. NO. NO!_ She was about to come up with an excuse before he started up again.

"I was wondering whether you wanted to go out tonight?" His voice cracked near the end and Isabelle snickered.

"Ah..." she fumbled for a response. The little imaginary light bulb went off over her head. "Oh, actually, I already have plans; we're all going to meet up tonight at Izzy's, right guys?" She looked at them expectantly.

They all mumbled yeses and Izzy looked like she was about to burst into hysterical laughter any second. Her face was an alarming shade of red.

"Oh, so you guys mind if I drop by tonight then?" They guy was relentless, and they very well couldn't say no, could they?

The affirmative sounds they made were much less enthusiastic this time around.

"Great. I'll see you guys tonight, yeah?" With that he turned and headed for the doors, both hands stuffed into his jean pockets.

As soon as the doors clicked shut, Clary set her head down on the table and groaned. It didn't take long. Not even two seconds Izzy's laughter rang through the room. She tried to speak between her amusement.

"Oh... my God. You...you should've seen... YOUR FACE!" Izzy now had her head down too, resting on her arms as she tried to control herself.

Jonathan was suddenly there, after watching from the sidelines the entire time. She glared up at him.

"Thanks for the assist, by the way."

"Oh, come on, Clary, he's a teammate! What kind of person would I be if I didn't give him a fighting chance?" His teasing tone didn't match his tense posture with his arms crossed.

"Apparently he's coming over tonight," she explained exasperated. She already knew that he was going to be there.

"The more the merrier," he half sang, and Clary shoved him while still sitting down, causing her to almost tip over.

She turned back to her group of friends. Izzy beamed evilly, which seemed like an oxymoron to Clary. "So," she said. "You ready for a makeover?"

* * *

JPOV

She was in his car. He couldn't help but be acutely aware of exactly where he sat, every time she moved, every time she breathed.

_Woah. Stalker alert._ Jace chided himself silently.

She and Izzy sat in the backseat, giggling about something. Alec and Jace sat up front silently while the radio played quietly in the background.

They were all headed home; Jace and Alec because they had nothing better to do, Izzy and Clary so they could "prepare" for the night. Jace knew preparing was girl talk for trying on thirty different outfits and gossiping. He felt mildly repulsed at the idea, but even more he had a fascination for what Clary was thinking.

He couldn't help himself; there way something fundamentally immoral about the way he thought of this girl. Something was entirely wrong with the way this girl acted; at first she liked Marcus, and it had almost killed him. Then, when they were at lunch, it took everything in him not to walk out those doors. But then, then he had seen Clary's face, her green eyes sparking in disguised fury and her lip curling in disgust. At that he wanted to laugh out loud like Izzy had, but he stopped himself just in time. Instead, he had smirked and thrown in a jack-assy comment about Marcus wanting Jon's baby sister.

But he, _he _was the one who wanted her. Even if he refused to admit it.

_But you just did,_ the little, but extremely sexy voice in his head pealed. _Shut up._ His fist clenched the steering wheel as they pulled onto their driveway.

As soon as they were in the house, Izzy dragged Clary up to her room, talking all the way about what kind of bra she should wear.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

IPOV

Frustration. It licked up though Isabelle for the millionth time that hour as she watched Clary look at herself in the mirror. A baby frown appeared on the edges of her mouth and she sighed.

"I don't know, Izzy," she trailed off, uncertain. Clary looked down at herself. She was dressed in a bright blue dress that just reached mid-thigh. It offset her hair in a way that made it look like fire. Blue for water, red for fire.

"Come on, C! You look a-mazing! Everyone'll be drooling over you tonight, everyone except for Simon, of course."

Clary sighed. "Isabelle, don't you have anything less... revealing?" eyeing the plunging neckline in the mirror. "We all know; I'm a flat-chested midget (**from actual book COB), **but do we really need to flaunt it?"

Isabelle let out a loud, aggravated breath. "Fine, cm'ere. I'll find you something. Clary stripped off her dress to reveal a dark blue lace bra and panties, pushed upon her by Isabelle. She pulled on a t-shirt, and Isabelle went to rifle through her cluttered walk-in closet.

She stepped over small mountains of shoes, heaps of cloths, and price tags all over. Digging through four piles, she finally found what she was looking for, and she reemerged from her expedition.

"Here, " she said, and she threw the fabric at Clary. "Go change," she commanded.

"Yes sir," Clary saluted before marching into Isabelle's connected bathroom.

This was impossible. They'd been at it for hours, and yet they couldn't find something "suitable" for her to wear.

She was probably just nervous. And she had every right to be; any girl would be if they had the likes of both Jace and Marcus staring her down.

She couldn't help but have been amused when Marcus confronted Clary at lunch. He was hot, sure, but one of the biggest manwhores in existence.

Then there was Jace. More of a player. She saw how he looked at Cary when he thought she wasn't looking, and Isabelle thought it was adorable. Both she and Alec thought it was time for him to get someone real.

Finally Clary came out of the bathroom to stand in from of the full-length mirror once again. She appraised herself warily before smiling.

"I approve."

Isabelle squealed. She_ did _look amazing. Black leather pants, a form-fitting blue shirt with a black belt, and short ankle boots made up her outfit. A few silver bangles and dangly earring complimented the ensemble.

Her makeup looked _fantastic _too, if Isabelle said so herself. Dark and mysterious yet beautiful and innocent, she looked...

"Perfect," Isabelle voiced out loud. Clary blushed.

Soon after they both heard the front door open and multiple voices float up the stairs.

"Show time," she exclaimed grabbing Clary by the wrist and bringing her downstairs.

His reaction was priceless. Jace's eyes bugged wide before he adjusted his expression into a more neutral one.

Already in the house was Magnus, Simon, who was gawking at Isabelle, she noted with a smug feeling, Maia, and Jordan. Jonathan and Marcus had yet to arrive.

Five minutes later they were sitting in a circle on the ground in the living room. Isabelle voiced what they were all thinking.

"So. Who's up for some truth or dare?"

**Yeah, yeah, I know. Truth or dare is something people have already done, but it's one of my favorites. Plus, it's got something to do with the whole Clace pairing. Next chapter shouldn't take too long to write, so I'll try to update tomorrow.**

**Review! It's a demand. Not a request. Ha, just kidding. Sort of. **

**No, really. Review.**

**ImpossibleSociety**


	6. Chapter 6

**ImpossibleSociety**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare, you own the Mortal Instruments, and for that I envy you.**

**Shout out to another (or maybe the same) anonymous reviewer who totally got my Percy Jackson reference in the other chapter. Awesome!**

* * *

JPOV

_"So. Who's up for some truth or dare?"_

"Ok, we all know the rules. You don't do the dare; you take off a piece of clothing. Same for a truth, got it?" Jace leaned back on his hands.

"Ooh! Me! I want to go first! ME!" Isabelle was practically bouncing up and down in anticipation. When no one argued, she took it as assent.

"Clary, truth or dare?" she fired off immediately.

Clary tilted her perfectly styled head to the right, thinking. "Truth," she decidedly replied.

"Oh, you're no fun," Isabelle pouted, but then she grinned. "Alright, how many people have you kissed, Clary? And what were their names?"

Clary furrowed her brows, thinking, and Jace didn't like how long it took her to answer.

"Eight," she said finally, and Izzy's eyes widened slightly in mild surprise. "Simon, Eric, Tom, Sebastian, hot guy from the gym, Italian guy with awesome abs, and Denise." At the last one everyone's jaws dropped, and Jace couldn't help but admit that he was stunned too.

She rolled her eyes. "Ok, first of all, I was drunk. Second of all, it was a dare." She shrugged. "Her eyes flicked over to Maia's boyfriend. "Jordan, truth or dare?"

He visibly swallowed before responding. Jace clenched his jaw. "Um... dare."

"Put salt on your arm then hold an ice-cube to it for as long as you can." She said this with a completely straight face. Jace couldn't help but feel bad for Jordan; in a case of a lapse of judgment, he had done the same thing. And that was something he did _not_ want to relive.

Jordan clapped his hands together. "Bring it on." _Idiot._

Alec disappeared from Magnus' side for a minute and emerged with a salt shaker and a singular ice-cube in his left hand. "Here," he said, handing them to Jordan.

Jordan grinned a cocky smile that rivaled Jace's. Pouring a generous amount of salt on the back of his forearm, he hesitated only a second before he pressed the ice-cube firmly down on top of it.

For a few seconds his face remained calm, neutral. Then his eye twitched. His face jerked and twisted into a face, and finally he flung the ice out of his hand at the opposite wall. He jumped up and clutched at his arm, yelling out a string of profanities that would have gotten him detention back in school.

Everyone burst out laughing; even Maia fought the urge to smile as she checked to see if her boyfriend was ok.

He finally sat back down after the pain evidently subsided. "Glaring at all of them, especially at Clary, who had collapsed in a fit of giggles, he said, "Alright, whatever. Isabelle, truth or dare?"

Izzy, ever confident shot back, "Dare. What's the worst you could do, Kyle?" she asked, using his last name.

"Drinking contest with Clary," obviously adding Clary into the dare for revenge.

Jace wasn't sure how he felt about that. Simon didn't seem to mind his girlfriend getting into a drinking contest, but obviously anyone who knew Izzy knew better than to tell her what do to. Instead of feeling protective for her, though, like he should have, he felt defensive for Clary. Two sides of himself at battle, he didn't want her to get wasted. But at the same time, _he did_. He _wanted_ to see her without her ever-present walls up. So he didn't say anything. Instead, he got up to go to the kitchen.

Quickly pulling open the cabinet, he piled two stacks of ten shot glasses in his arms and grabbed a bottle of vodka. He walked back to the living room to see Clary and Izzy already ready, sitting at the low rectangular coffee table they had moved out of the way.

Izzy grabbed the glasses and spread them apart evenly, ten in front of her, ten in front of Clary. Jace expertly poured each glass to the top as everyone watched on.

"Ready," said Simon, "set. Go."

And they started. Jace didn't know if Clary had ever been in a drinking contest before, hey, he didn't even know if she had even drunk before. Fully expecting her to choke on her first drink, he was surprised at what he saw.

With no hesitation, she grabbed the first glass and downed it. She swallowed without any difficulty and before long, she was on her fifth glass without slowing. Izzy, on the other hand, had only drunk two. They kept going.

By the time Izzy was on her sixth, she looked faintly green. I'm done," she muttered, then stood shakily up. Wobbling over to Simon, she collapsed just as he caught her. A small giggle escaped her lips.

Clary seemed to be experiencing the same thing. Already have done _nine_ instead of the six that Izzy had done, some of the effects of the alcohol were already evident. She wasn't as bad off as Jace had thought she would be, but her words still ran together in a slur. "My...my dad let me drink a lot when I stayed with him." She blinked and shook her head, smiling to herself.

Clary mumbled something to herself then snorted. _Now_ she was wasted. The door suddenly swung open, and in walked Jon and Marcus.

_Marcus._ Just the thought of him anywhere near Clary made him want to hit something. Preferably Marcus' face.

Lurching up from her sitting position on the floor, Clary stumbled face first into Jonathan's chest. "Hiiiiiiiiiii," she drawled, still slurring her words. Blinking slowly, her gaze shifted to where Marcus stood awkwardly. "You came," she smiled, apparently forgetting all about her animosity towards him this afternoon.

Jon grabbed his sister's upper arms and held her up. "Clary? What the hell? You're drunk?" Her looked towards the rest of the group and spotted Isabelle sprawled out on the floor, her hair fanned out all over her face and the floor. A knowing look crossed his face and he sighed. "Truth or dare?"

"Yeahhhh. Jordan dared me and Izzy to..." A laugh bubbled from her lips. "I can't remember." She looked up to meet his eyes. "Do you want to play with usss?"

Jon chuckled. "Sure, Clary. We'll play," he said, speaking for both himself and Marcus. His eyes shot over to Jordan though. "But you, I'm gonna kick your ass if you ever get my sister drunk again," he threatened, and Jace was sure he meant it.

Apparently Jordan knew it to, because he went on the defense. "Hey, look at what she made me do!" He held up his arm as evidence.

"Yes, but will you wake up with a massive hangover tomorrow?" He had a point there.

"Whatever. Anyways, me and Maia were planning on heading out anyway. We'll see you guys later, yeah?" Everyone said their goodbyes and Jordan and Maia walked out the door.

Half- carrying a drunken Clary, Jon came over to where everyone was sitting and dropped to the floor.

"Ok, I'm up," While Jon was looking for a victim of either a humiliating truth or an excruciating dare, Clary untangled herself from Jonathan and began to crawl across the floor. Amused, Jace watched her make her way towards Simon, who now had Izzy in her lap, but she switched directions at the last second. She sleepily crawled into Jace's lap and rested her head on his shoulder, her nose buried into his neck and her hair spread across his chest.

"You smell good," she mumbled, her eyes already half closed.

Jace's heart began to beat wildly inside his chest; he wouldn't be surprised is Clary could hear it. His skin felt as if had an electric current running over it wherever Clary touched him. He felt her cool breath on his neck and involuntarily shuddered. When he smelled the vodka on her breath it should have disgusted him, but on _her_ it was intoxicating.

He suddenly felt aware of everyone's eyes on him, especially Marcus' jealous ones and Jon's wary.

"Jace," he said, his voice suddenly cold. "Truth or dare."

"Ummm..." Jace was having difficulty focusing, especially when he felt Clary's murmuring lips move against his neck. "Truth." He spat out the first thing that popped into his head.

"What are you thinking with my little sister on top of you?"

_Oh boy._

* * *

MARCUSPOV

Sexy Clary+ Drunk= Score

Sexy Clary+ Drunk+ Jace= Shit.

Conclusion: Jace= Shit.

* * *

CPOV

Through her alcohol induced haze she heard her brother talking. She felt Jace's chest rumble as he responded.

He felt so good. She couldn't understand how she ended up on top of him, and she didn't care. One minute she was in her brother's arms and the next she was in Jace's.

She buried her face into the crook of his neck and sighed. "You smell good," she mumbled without thinking, and it was true. He smelled like sunshine, _could you smell sunshine?_ and straight up man. His skin was tight under hers.

"What are you thinking with my little sister on top of you?" Her brother's voice suddenly cut through to her consciousness.

Jace's voice. "Ahhh..."

Clary's limp head jerked forward and she almost jolted up. A gentle hand came and supported her weight though, and before long she was propped back up against Jace. Something was different though. Instead of his throat being the only bare skin she could feel, it went lower.

He had taken off his shirt. Clary could feel his tight and hard abdomen through the soft fabric of her shirt. It sent a thrill though her, and her body began to move against her will.

Her legs wrapped themselves around his hips and she felt Jace stiffen beneath her. With her eyes still shut, Clary began trailing light kisses from his neck down his chest. She couldn't help herself; it was as if her body had a mind of its own.

Jace let out a soft gasp, and Clary finally lifted her head and opened her heavy eyes to meet his wide ones. "Hi," she whispered not caring in the slightest at who was watching. She knew she was drunk; that was the point. Even if she didn't remember any of this in the morning, at least she would have an excuse for what she had done.

"Ok, that's it. Come on, Clary, we're gonna go." He strode over and plucked Clary off Jace's lap.

"No," Clary whined, adamant. "I don't want to go." She squirmed in Jon's arms but he held on.

Finally submitting, he began to head towards the door when she heard Magnus muse, "Well. This was interesting."

And it was.

She finally fell asleep, and even though Jonathan was carrying her, the last thing she remembered was Jace.

* * *

SIMONPOV

So awkward. So so _so_ awkward. Simon sat there with a stunned looking shirtless Jace who did nothing but stare at the door, a passed out Isabelle, Magnus and Alec talking quietly in the corner, and a _very_ uncomfortable looking Marcus, who got up mumbled an excuse, and bolted for the door. He gently peeled Isabelle off of his lap and held her bridal style like Jon had done with Clary. He trudged up to her room, evaded piles of clothes and mountains of makeup, finally reaching her bed. Carefully placing her down, he tucked her under the blankets and turned to go when he heard a sleepy voice call out to him.

"Don't go," it said, and he had never heard it so vulnerable. So sincere.

He smiled to himself and crawled into the bed next to her.

* * *

**Argh. Sorry you guys. I had a major case of writer's block on this chapter, which I did not expect to happen. I wanted it to be longer... oh well. Tell me if you guys liked those snippets of Marcus and Simon. I might do more if you guys like it!**

**Math hates me. Got an A- on my midterms and my dad was all, "You should've done better than that!"**

**Eh, the stress of being an Asian. Lol. I'm so racist. But it's against my own race so it's... ok?**

**Whatever. I'll try to post again soon!**

**ImpossibleSociety**


	7. Chapter 7

**You guys are awesome! Thanks for the totally incredible and hilarious Asian support, which I wasn't expecting but was fun to read anyway. As for the Marcus POV part, I wasn't sure if you guys would like it, so thanks for the positive comments!**

**Writer's block has decided to strike again, probably because I'm watching Netflix while writing this, so I'm gonna skim over some of the school parts to get to more... interesting things. Cue Clace angst.**

**Also to Barbie bitch (lol at your screen name, by the way): I know! I'm so sorry, but with school and writer's block and everything, it's been rely hard to write this. And it's even worse because I know what you mean about checking every day for an update!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments, but I still have my pride. *sniffles***

* * *

JONPOV

Jon sat at the kitchen counter checking his phone and calmly drinking coffee when Clary staggered into the room, her hair looking like a haystack. He had gotten her home, and after some struggle, got her into a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Life hurts," Clary moaned, clutching her head. Making a beeline for the coffee machine, Jon chuckled.

"Regretting that vodka, huh?" She glared at him and flipped him off. Pouring herself a mug, she snatched a ceramic jar of sugar out of the shelf, put in almost five heaping spoonfuls and swirled it around.

"Clary, you're going to give yourself a heart attack." He looked on amusedly. Clary had a major sugar-tooth. Jon had once seen Clary eat a jumbo pack of Sour Patch Kids, whilst eating the powder at the bottom, a quart of ice cream, and a huge slice double chocolate cake, all in one sitting. And yet she never gained any weight; she still look like a twig. Something was very unnatural there. And _very _unfair.

_He_ had to work to keep in the kind of shape he was. And yet _she_ was skinny as ever, and _what the hell?_ Was he actually jealous of his little sister? His little sister who had _way_ too many guys chasing after her, by the way.

He flashed back to the night before and pictured Jace's expression as Clary lay on top of him. Wondering if Clary actually _remembered _any of it, he coughed uncomfortably.

"So... about last night." He started off hesitantly.

Clary rested her cheek on the cool marble counter. "What about it? Never mess with Jordan? Yeah, I got the memo."

"Not exactly." Jon fidgeted awkwardly, then continued. "Do you uh... remember anything else?" His voice started to rise in pitch nervously.

"Please stop talking. Just, please. My head feels like it's imploding and we have to get to school and whose _stupid _idea was it to hang out on a weekday?" Her voice grew vicious at the end. Number one indication to back off from Clary. Jon took the opportunity graciously. Before he could backpedal and avoid any more wrath from the tiny redhead, another snarl erupted from her.

"And what the hell am I supposed to remember anyway? You know what? I don't even care. I'm gonna go get ready." With that she bolted down the last of her coffee and dragged her feet back up the stairs.

Good. She didn't remember.

And Jon was going to make sure it stayed that way.

* * *

CPOV

She remembered everything.

_Crap._

* * *

JPOV

Alec and Jace sat in the front of the car, listening to Izzy shout out profanities geared towards Jordan.

...Gonna kill him," she muttered, looking completely pissed off and yet impeccably dressed, as ever.

Jace half-agreed with her. Part of him wanted to pummel Jordan's face into some asphalt, but the bigger part of him wanted to give that man a hug. Mainly because of Clary.

It had taken all of his willpower and then some to stop himself from groaning in pleasure as Clary peppered kisses down his chest. It took him an unimaginable amount of effort not to grab her right then and slam his mouth onto hers. But he did, because she was drunk, because when he kissed her, he wanted it to mean something.

_And because everyone was staring at you, dumbass._ He ignored both the voice and pulled into the school.

In the parking lot he spotted Jon and Clary. She started walking towards them, and Jace's heart began to thump just a little faster, but Jon gently grabbed her wrist and tugged her back. He said something to her, and a little frown appeared on her face, along with a look of confusion, but she nodded her head anyway. With that, Jon placed his hand on Clary's lower back and guided her towards the entrance of the school. A feeling of extreme disappointment coursed through Jace.

Intent on talking to Clary, he headed into the school.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if the fates were against him that day. The fates and Jon. Whenever he tried to approach her, something came in his way, be it one of their God-awful teachers or Jon trying to subtly intervene. Surprisingly, Clary didn't seem to notice, instead kept her head down and remained quiet, hardly casting a glance in Jace's direction.

Jon finally cornered Jace right before they entered the cafeteria. He grabbed Jace's shoulder and pulled him out of the steady flow of students filing into the cafeteria.

"Listen," he started of semi-threateningly. "About last night..."

Jace shifted his weight from his left to his right foot uncomfortably. "What about it?" He tried for a casual tone. It was only half successful.

"You know what I'm talking about. The whole my sister-trying-to-make-out-with-you-half-passed-out-and-you-without-a-shirt-thing?"

"Ummm...yeah." Jace rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"You're not going to say anything to her, right? I mean, I'm pretty sure she doesn't even remember it anyway."

And with that, Jace's hopes were shattered.

* * *

CPOV

Her avoidance plan was working well. Pretending to be interested in everything _other_ than Jace, which was a complete lie, was insanely difficult, but she managed. She couldn't even risk a glance at him to she if there was a glimmer of recognition, apprehension, disgust.

Was he disgusted? I mean, she couldn't blame him if he was, no matter how much she wanted to. He had a list of girls a mile long that were so much prettier than her. Girls like Kaelie, some slut she had heard about from Isabelle. Clary had gotten a glimpse of her in the hallway and immediately understood why Jace liked her. Smooth lengthy limbs, sizeable... assets, and shiny dark hair made her the exact opposite of Clary. And Clary didn't care what people said; opposites did _not_ attract. Therefore, why would Jace ever want _her_?

All of a sudden, the hand she was resting her chin on was swept out from underneath her. Her head almost banged down on the table. She looked up to see Isabelle grinning at her.

"What?" Clary snapped, irritated.

Izzy giggled. "Are you ok? You look like you're high. Still hungover? Yeah, me too."

Clary took the opportunity. "Uh, yeah. Sure."

She tuned out the rest world, especially Jace, who was playing an intense game of tonsil tennis with Kaelie sitting on his lap.

* * *

The rest of the week slogged along until it was finally Friday. Clary was changing in the locker room after an extreme round of _actual_ tennis when there was a shriek behind her. She jumped and nearly hit her head on a locker in the process.

"Izzy, what the hell?" Clary turned to face the exuberant girl behind her.

"We are _so _going out tonight! There's this awesome club called Pandemonium not to far from here and I know the bouncer! Let's go! Pleaaaaase?" Isabelle started jumping up and down in rapid motions.

"Izzy. You know I don't do clubs." She said this slowly, as if talking to a young child.

"Come on Clary." And Izzy sounded exasperated. "Just this once. I'll dress you up and everything!"

"Clary stared at Izzy for a long moment, then let out a deep breath. "Fine," she said, conceding. "But just this once."

A deafening squeal reverberated through the locker room, deafening Clary.

* * *

"There!" Isabelle fixed a final smudge of lip gloss on Clary. "You are officially perfect! You can look now!"

Clary stood up off the chair in Izzy's room and turned to face the mirror. A stranger stared back at her. A shimmering black dress embedded with minute sparkles clung to her body, barely touching her thighs and leaving her back almost completely naked. Dark smoky eyes and blood red lips made her grass green eyes burst with brightness. Isabelle had pinned half of her hair up with sparkling pins; the other half fell loosely and framed her delicate face. Five inch black cutout heels made her stout figure seem willowy. She loved it.

"I look like a prostitute." Clary tried to sound disappointed. Izzy saw right through it.

She grinned. "Aw, come on, C. You know you love it." At that, Clary couldn't hold in a grin of her own.

"Fine, it's cool," she admitted, then turned to inspect Izzy.

She wore a bright red dress that reached mid-thigh and stuck to her body like a second skin. Her raven hair hung riotously down her back and a dark make-up and nude lip-gloss covered her face. Her shoes were _at least _seven inches tall, but she didn't seem to have any trouble walking, unlike Clary.

"Ready to go?" Clary asked, smiling mischievously. "And we're taking _my _car."

"Hell, yes!" Izzy had fallen in love with Clary's car the second she had seen it.

Together they walked out of the Lightwood house and jumped into Clary's car. She revved the engine loudly, and Izzy laughed.

"Let's go!" she squealed, and they peeled off down the driveway.

* * *

JPOV

Jace and Jon listened to the girls giggle and then the door slam shut. Jon glanced over at him.

"Ready" he asked.

"Yup. Let's go."

* * *

**Argh! You guys, sorry it's so short, but I really felt like I needed to update! Also, I was kind of disappointed with the lack of reviews for my last chapter (but thanks to the ones who did review!), so are you guys just...not interested? I'm open to any suggestions you guys may have!**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**P.S. How would you guys feel about drugs+Marcus in the club scene? Too cliche?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks you guys! Loved the great support and with you guyses (guy-ses? The plural of guys? Whatever.) ambiguous responses, I've kind of decided to go ahead with the Marcus+ drugs thing, but I'll try to make it as not-cliché (non-cliché? anti-cliché?) as possible. *awkward laugh* Tell me how you like it!**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**xojessica36: How do you know I'm a girl? *creepy leer* Eh, I guess you could call a guy babe. *grin* No, but just kidding. Yeah, it's pretty obvious I'm a girl. Or am I? *Maniacal laugh***

**Disclaimer: I'm not going to come up with some extravagant disclaimer, because we all know that I don't own the Mortal Instruments. Just read.**

* * *

JPOV

_Jace and Jon listened to the girls giggle and then the door slam shut. Jon glanced over at him. _

_"Ready" he asked._

_"Yup. Let's go."_

The boys waited for at least fifteen minutes before they began to tail the girls. They hopped in Jon's car and headed in the same direction Clary and Izzy had taken off. They were mostly silent the way there, Jon gripping the steering wheel tightly while Jace pretended to be engrossed with something on his phone.

That afternoon they had heard their sisters making plans while they walked past the boy's locker room. Jon had raised his eyebrows at Jace warily, and they made a silent agreement. They were going to follow them. Well, more accurately, Jon was going to watch Clary, and Jace, well; _technically_ he was going to keep an eye on Isabelle.

He thought back to earlier in the week about Kaelie. Sure he had made out with her when everyone could see them and yeah... they might've had sex again... once or twice. Three times, max, Jace swore. BC, code for _before Clary_, Jace would've been perfectly happy with just that. Just sex. He was completely fine with pushing her away while she kept crawling back. But _after_ Clary, well that was a different story. Where he used to see Kaelie's dark seductive eyes remained Clary's innocent green ones. When Kaelie's sultry voice was replaced with Clary's tinkling laugh.

He didn't want to make her _mad_, he didn't even want to make her jealous; all he wanted was a reprieve. Because he was going mad just thinking about it. For just a day, two days, he wanted to forget about his feelings, about what he really wanted. He wanted to be the sociopathic ass he normally was; he wanted to be the _old Jace._ Old Jace, old girls. It made perfect sense.

But he _couldn't get her out of his damn head._ He tried getting drunk, having sex, but nothing worked.

Eventually the two pulled up into a densely packed lot with people stumbling around. Jon drove in multiple circles for a good ten minutes before he actually found a spot. Hands in his pockets, him and Jon strolled towards the entrance of the club, heading to the front of the rapidly growing line. Jon had a quick muted discussion with the bouncer, a big brawny guy with tattoos crawling up both arms and behind his neck. Jace saw a flash of dull green pass between their hands and he smirked. The man stood aside and let her in despite the angry shouts behind them.

"How much did you give him?" Jace asked under his breath.

Jon flashed him a quick grin. "Enough," he said.

As soon as the pulsating bass of the music and the sporadic flashes of strobe lights were identified, Jace braced himself, and it looked like Jon did too.

It wasn't as if they were being vain; it was a necessary part of survival. The perils of being dangerously good looking. The two of them were right to prepare, because immediately when they came into the view of the public, seventy-five percent of the girls there were staring at them. Ok, so _staring_ may have been a bit of an understatement, Jace admitted. Dozens of young women tracked their every move lustfully, completely ignoring their boyfriends and dates.

Jon snickered next to Jace. "We are _never _going to find the girls before they find us."

A brief smile lit Jace's faces. "It's worth a try, yeah?" Together they pushed their way through the masses of writing bodies and sat at the overcrowded bar. It took time to catch the bartender's attention, but when they did he hardly glanced at them, not even checking to see if they were of legal age. They both ordered beers, which the bartender quickly brought over and plopped on the counter. The two of them took them and turned around on their stools, leaning back on the edge of the table to observe any action around them.

It didn't take long for Jon to pick out Clary and Isabelle from the swelling crowd. He pointed. "They're over there," and it sounded like he was gritting his teeth.

Jace turned his head and he soon saw why. The two of them were... dancing, and he used that term lightly, with some guys from the football team.

Now one thing was certain about their school. The soccer players and the football jocks _did _not go together. They mixed about as well as the cheerleaders and the AV club. And yet there they were, their brothers on the soccer team, but without a care in the world. Clary danced energetically with one of the players, Scott or Sean or Sam or something stupid like that. Her arms wrapped around his neck while he slid his hands slowly up her bare thighs. Smiling seductively, he lowered his face to meet hers. Jon shot up out of his chair. Before he could do anything, Clary put her hand up to stop his advances. Jace released an unconscious breath at the same time as Jon. Their eyes tracking Clary's every move, her eyes narrowed and her lip curled in disgust at something the idiot said. She flipped him off and stalked away, hauling Izzy along with her and ignoring the irritated shouts at the group of guys watching her. They headed straight towards the bar.

Jace was the first to catch on. "Crap, they're coming over here! They're going to recognize us," he hissed.

"Dude, just turn around and act natural. It'll be fine." Jace managed to sound as arrogant as ever. Both of them turned and ducked their heads, hoping not to be identified.

The two sashayed up and leaned on the bar, giggling to each other.

Izzy spoke quickly to the bartender, who brought them a pair of girly looking fruity pink drinks.

Jace just raised his eyebrows while Jon ranted out angrily. "_Seriously?_ Now they're drinking?" He didn't bother to point out himself as a hypocrite, drinking too. "She's a _child_, for Christ's sake. Look at what she's wearing!" Jon was so busy with his tirade and Jace was so busy trying to look like he was paying attention that they didn't even notice as Clary slipped away.

Finally his head turned to search for Clary, but Jace couldn't see her.

She just disappeared.

* * *

CPOV

Clary frowned, then swiveled her head to look at her surroundings. She glanced back down at her hand that was clutching her phone, and her eyes scanned the text.

_Back corner _it read, an unknown number accompanying it.

Her morbid curiosity overpowered any apprehension she had about who had sent they test and why. It took her a while to look in every corner of the club; immediately she ruled out the ones with couples making out in them. So... eighty-five percent of the crooks were disqualified.

She turned a bend in the adjoining rooms of the club at the bottom of the stairs. A hand darted out rapidly and snagged her arm. The beginnings of a bloodcurdling scream worked its way up her throat but were soon stifled as a meaty hand clamped over her mouth. She squirmed until her captor let her go, and she turned around to see his face.

In the dim lighting it took her eyes a second to adjust, but when they did, a deep fury rose inside of her and she had to restrain herself from cussing at him.

_Marcus._

"What the _fuck_ is _wrong with you?_" Ok, so she didn't have the cleanest mouth.

"Hey, hey hey, lighten up. I was just messin' around. Why don't you stop playing around with those boys out there and see what a _real man_ is like?" He grinned.

With an exceptional poker face she said, "Where? I don't see one."

His face turned menacing and his voice threatening. "You don't want to say no to me, love."

"Um, yeah, I really do." She wrenched her arm back from his ever tightening grip and stared straight back up at him. "Leave me alone." Clary turned to leave

At that Marcus literally growled and he hooked his hand around her waist, spinning her back to face him. He roughly pushed her against the wall and held her there, his hand braced against her chest tightly.

Clary gasped for breath. "Let me go." She sounded like she was choking. "Marcus, let me go." His faced came closer to hers and for the first time she could smell the scent of hard liquor wafting from his breath. It was revolting.

"I'm not going to do that, Clary," his voice deadly quiet as his lips brushed up against her ear. She struggled to get free but Marcus pressed his body up against hers, locking her immobile. He reached back for something in his pocket, but Clary couldn't see what it was. She turned her head to the side to avoid any further contact with him. For the first time, she began to feel afraid.

"Help," she tried to shout, but it came out as a raspy gasp.

"Oh, it's ok, Clary. I'll help you," Marcus crooned. She locked eyes with him just as she felt a sharp jab press into her arm.

Abruptly Marcus released his hold on her and she bent forward gasping. "What the hell did you just do?" she asked, still trying to catch her breath.

"Nothing," he said innocently, as if nothing unusual had just happened.

Clary eventually straightened up, but the world tilted to the right almost instantaneously. She stumbled, and Marcus moved to catch her.

"You ok?" he questioned, and she might've imagined the slightest hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine." she mumbled.

She wasn't fine. The club around her started to blur into an indistinguishable mess of colors and shapes and sounds, all trying to work its way into her already pounding head. Marcus' face came in and out of focus multiple times in the span of a few seconds.

The longer she tried to focus, the blurrier things got. Black started to fringe on the outskirts of her vision, and her thoughts began to haze.

What was she doing? Why was she here? And Marcus...he did something. Something, right? He touched her shoulder gently, and her head lolled up to meet his gaze.

"You ok, Clary? You need some air or something? I could get you out of here if you want; my place isn't too far from here." His voice was concerned, comforting.

And Clary couldn't understand _why_ she shouldn't go with him; he was only being friendly. Her headache was getting progressively worse by the second and she couldn't even remember why she was here, or who she had been with.

"Yeah, sure." Her words sounded distorted to her own ears, slurred and sleepy.

She tried to take a step toward him but her leg buckle in the process. He caught her, wrapping a supporting arm around her waist and the other around her shoulders. Marcus guided her gently but quickly toward the door on the other side of the over packed room. The further they went along the more Clary leaned on him, feeling more and more leaden, until he was practically carrying her. Yet he still dragged her along, the heels of her shoes making tiny scraping sounds as they went. By the time Marcus had weaved them though the masses of people, Clary's eyes had glazed over and were half shut. Her breathing sounded deep and heavy and slow to her own ears.

Although her vision stared to worsen and the world turned to grey, she could still hear the voices. Three of them stood out amongst the others, raising in pitch and familiarity.

"Where are you taking her?" A male voice, distinctly angry. The other boy seconded the statement.

Clary could feel Marcus' chest rise as he responded. "Nowhere, man. She's wasted. I'm just takin' her out for some air."

All of a sudden his body jolted back from what was most likely a shove. His grip on Clary loosened and Clary, unable to control her body, slid towards the floor.

A strong pair of hands caught her milliseconds before she made impact, and they held her close. "Clary?" the voice breathed, panic etched into every syllable.

At the mention of her name her eyes managed to zero in on the person in front of her for a moment. _Gold._ "Jace?" Her voice was weak, fragile from the drugs pumping through her system. Clary's eyes started to slide close again.

"Clary, I need you to look at me. How much did you drink?" It took her a moment to focus, trying to ignore the pair of livid shouts surrounding her. Although numb, she was still capable of talking.

"One," she said. "I only had one drink."

"What? Clary, that's not possible. One drink wouldn't make you..." and his voice trailed off. There was a brief moment of silence before he started snarling curses at the top of his lungs. Clary could feel his arms tighten strenuously around her as he tried to reign in his anger.

There was another loud voice, which she finally recognized as her brother.

All of a sudden there was a myriad of noises, grunting and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. The unmistakable resonance of a cheering crowed backed them up.

Vaguely aware of herself being lifted from the ground, her eyes opened to slits. "Jace?" she asked. "I'm tired Jace. I'm so tired." She sighed the last part, and finally allowed her eyes to slide shut.

Before everything faded to nothing, she heard him respond.

"I know, Clary. I know."

* * *

JPOV

He was going to kill Marcus. If Jon didn't get to it first.

* * *

**What'd you think? I tried to make everyone happy based on their reviews, so let me know if I did ok! And yeah, I'm not good on the whole, "let's write about drugs as if I know what I'm talking about" thing. So sorry if it's inaccurate! **

**Pumped for spring break, and I've got lots of family-related-bored-out-of-my-mind stuff to do, but I'll try to update pretty frequently.**

**Thanks to all my regular reviewers and my new ones; I appreciate any feedback you guys have.**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**OOH. One more thing. The nerdiest thing happened to me during class today. We're reading To Kill a Mockingbird and one of the character's name is Jem. (A lot of you probably already know that.) So during my **_**quiz**_** I meant to write Jem but totally ended up writing Will instead. That's right. Me and the Infernal Devices.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Loved the hilarious reviews you guys sent me! I'll try to amp up the Clace angst and a possible kissing scene in the next couple of chapters. (Hint: Kissing not in this chapter, but coming up!) *wink wink* There's also a point that I forgot to address earlier, so I'm sorry about it. I will **_**not**_** write any lemons, but I will write some pretty intense make-out scenes. Sorry to disappoint any of you guys who like reading that kind of stuff, but that's just not me. Ok, now I feel kind of bad.**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments, but I do own Marcus. ...Now that I think about it, I'm not sure that's a good thing.**

* * *

JONPOV

From across the club, Jon spotted Clary hanging limply from someone's arms. At that distance, he could make out her tangles of red her and her half-lidded eyes. Holding her up was his teammate, and he started pulling her towards the exit. Jon grabbed Jace by the sleeve of his shirt and turned him towards the two of them.

"There," he said, spitting the word out harshly.

"What the hell?" Jace took the scene in confusedly. Then his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.

"Let's go." Jon stalked up to them with Jace hot on his heels. He marched straight up to Marcus and demanded, "Where are you taking her?"

He responded coolly as if nothing was wrong. "Nowhere, man. She's wasted. I'm just takin' her out for some air." Clary's head rolled gently to the side.

At that, Jon couldn't contain his anger, and he shoved Marcus square in the chest. The idiot that he was, Marcus wasn't able to keep a grip on Clary at the same time and he dropped her. Automatically she fell towards the floor, but Jace darted forward at the last second at caught her. He started talking to Clary, but it was too faint for Jon to make out. Besides, he was mainly focused on the bastard in front of him.

"How much did you give her to drink?" He challenged her, one foot in front of the other in a fighting stance. He hardly noticed the growing crowd around them, all pushing forward to see what was going on.

"I already told you- nothing." He held his hands up in a placating gesture. Before he could continue speaking, Jace caught his attention with his furious swearing.

"Hey, Jon, I don't think she's drunk." With that he flipped her unresponsive arm over to reveal an irritated looking red splotch. Up close, an insignificant dot was visible in the middle of the blemish, almost invisible. A dot, almost like the imprint of... a syringe.

"You _drugged my sister?_" His voice came out as a feral snarl, an uncontainable fury welling up from deep inside him. It was obvious now: the slight flutter of her eyelids, her heavy breathing, the little moan that escaped her unconscious and parted lips.

Marcus didn't even try to deny it. Her simply grinned the asshatty grin that he'd seen a million times before, but never once had Jon wanted to maul it off his face. Jon lunged forward impulsively, making sure to steer clear of Clary and Jace, who seemed to be mumbling something. Jace replied in an equally soft tone, murmuring something that sounded suspiciously like her name.

But Jon could not focus, because he would not be stirred from his target. Marcus, clearly on edge now stared down his opponent. He lunged forward with a loud grunt, but Jon sidestepped easily and swung his fist towards his face. Jon's fist smashed violently into Marcus' face, and blood immediately began to flow from his nose. Marcus rocked back, looking dazed for a couple seconds, before he threw himself at Jon again.

By that time the crowd swelled around them like an impromptu mosh pit, cheering them on, a small number of them chanting, "Fight! Fight!" over and over.

He happily complied, slamming his feet and hands into Marcus' face and gut and chest, anywhere he could reach. When Marcus collapsed onto the ground, bleeding and vulnerable, it took all of his effort to stop himself from ramming his foot into Marcus' side, over and over again. And hey, he had one hell of a kick; soccer player, remember?

Breathing hard, Jon viciously yanked the collar of Marcus' shirt up so that their faces were mere inches apart. "You. Stay. The _hell_ away. From. My. Sister." His harsh tone made it perfectly clear how serious he was. Jon's hand moved from his collar to around Marcus' thick neck, wrapping it tightly enough to be uncomfortable but loose enough so that he could breathe.

Unable to come up with a coherent response, Marcus just wheezed feebly, his hands shielding his face in surrender.

"You don't touch her, _ever._ Stay the _fuck _away from my sister, because next time, I swear to God, I won't hesitate to kill you. Got it?"

Instead of waiting for a confirmation, he simply let go, allowing Marcus to slide to the ground with a loud _thump._ People all around them started cheering for Jon, some pounding him on the back and congratulating him, despite not even knowing the cause of the brawl.

Jon didn't respond; he just kept his face stoic as he straightened himself out. Then he turned and walked over to Jace, who was now cradling Clary delicately in his arms. She looked tiny compared to him. The soft curve of her eyelashes made her face seem young, almost child-like. Innocent. With that in mind, another surge of protectiveness came over his little sister, and he almost turned back to finish what he started with Marcus. Instead, he looked up to meet Jace's gaze.

"Did you kill him?" Jace asked, no worry in his voice whatsoever. Just curiosity, and maybe a little morbidly, Jon thought, anticipation.

"No, but I came damn close to," he replied, and he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment flash across Jace's face. "Here, I'll take her," he said finally, referring to the lifeless looking girl below them.

With a look of reluctance, Jace slid Clary into his open arms, being careful to support her head, like one would do with a newborn. He visibly composed himself, then sighed. "Where the hell is Izzy?"

In all of the commotion, Jon had hardly noticed the missing girl. Sweeping his gaze around, he finally saw her, dancing among a midst of guys. He watched on with a look of amusement. "Over there," he said, and Jace turned to look.

He snorted. "Of course." By then he was used to his sister's ways. Cupping his hands over his mouth he bellowed, "IZZY! OVER HERE! NOW!"

Eventually Izzy made her way over to them, huffing exasperatedly. "Geez, you didn't have to yell. Everyone was staring at you. Besides, have you guys seen Clary? I haven't since-" She cut off suddenly and took in the scene around her. The crowd had significantly dispersed, and Marcus had picked himself up off the ground, but he leaned heavily on the frame of a doorway, holding a wad of already bloodied tissues up to his nose. With wide eyes she stared at Clary in Jon's arms, then finally the boys' murderous looks.

"What did I miss?"

* * *

IZZYPOV

She couldn't believe she had missed it. Ok, on a completely shallow note, she would have loved to have seen that fight. Marcus looked like his face had been through a blender, then the high-spin cycle on a washing machine. Clary's brother, on the other hand, hadn't so much as a speck of dust on him, making it seem improbable that he was even in a fight to begin with.

Then if she was being an actual friend, she felt terrible. Izzy had thought something as off when Clary had looked down at her phone in confusion, then taken off. She ought to have gone after her, but then a guy came to ask her to dance... and she couldn't say no, even if she already had a boyfriend.

But she felt _terrible._ It was all her idea: going out to Pandemonium, everything. And then she hadn't even _noticed_ when an all-out battle ensued as her friend lay hopped up on drugs on the floor.

She contemplated all this with a bite of her lip as she drove to her home. She had agreed to take Clary's car back, since Clary was... out of commission. The boys had taken her, planning on bringing her to their house. Jon had insisted on bringing her there, not to his house, because his mother was home, and, "somehow I don't think it's the best idea if I walk in the house with my drugged sister and say 'Hey, Mom. We went to a club. I got into a fight, Clary got drugged, so... how was work?'" He had a point. So they took her and placed her in Jon's car, heading to their house.

When she arrived, Jon's car was already parked in the driveway, and Isabelle pulled up behind it. Only a few of the lights in their huge house glowed brightly, indicating that her parents weren't awake. Good.

Isabelle pulled open the unlocked door to see Jace and Jon arguing heatedly while Clary slept obliviously on the couch. A disheveled looking Alec and a grumpy Magnus appeared, both blinking sleepily. Somehow she wasn't surprised that Magnus was there; it only seemed natural. Alec and Magnus went together like sunlight and rain; they made a rainbow. And rainbows definitely fitted Magnus.

"What's going on?" Magnus asked while stifling a yawn.

Jace was the first to respond. "It's a long story..."

* * *

JPOV

He looked down at Clary's medically induced sleep, her chest rising and falling evenly. Jon had originally insisted on staying with her throughout the night, but everyone had collectively convinced him to crash in the one of the multiple spare rooms.

Jon had scooped up Clary and placed her in another spare room, directly next to his, and Izzy went in to help her out of her dress and into something more comfortable.

Jace couldn't sleep. There was a snowball's chance in hell **(got that from a TV show called "Alphas") **that he could get a minute of sleep, not after what had happened that night.

So instead he went downstairs and watched TV. Or rather, he tried to. Instead, his mind kept wandering to Clary, how she looked when she slept, how if Marcus ever got anywhere near her again, Jace would slaughter him before Jon got anywhere close.

After almost two hours of this maddening circle of thoughts, he stood up off the couch, _the couch where Clary had just been,_ and clicked off the TV. He made his way up the elegant flight of stairs and down the hall to where his bedroom was, on the left. In a moment of sheer idiocy and recklessness, he took a sharp veer right and turned the knob on the door. He stepped into the room. **(Why am I getting a vague Monsters Inc. feeling from this?)** What had once been neatly made covers were overturned and Clary lay on top of them. Her hair was now down and her curls hung free, fanning out over the pillow. She only wore an oversized t-shirt, her legs completely bare.

Jace couldn't keep his eyes off of her. And then he made the worst, or possibly the best, decision of his life. He silently padded across the floor and climbed in next to her, wincing when the bed creaked noisily. When she didn't wake, Jace settled down next to her, pulling the covers back up around Clary. He wrapped his arms lightly around her, and he involuntarily stiffened when she moved.

Through the drugs, she let out a delicious moan that set him on edge. Clary turned her body so that it as facing Jace's and he held his breath. For the second time, she buried her face into his neck breathing deeply. His breath escaped him in a long puff, and he slowly thawed until he relaxed completely next to her.

Pretty soon after, the sound of her constant even breathing made his heart calm, and he felt his eyelids drift shut, entirely content with where he was.

* * *

When he awoke, the sunlight filtered through the blinds, and it took him a moment to realize where he was. When he did, though, he smiled to himself like a fool. Clary was still asleep next to him; she hadn't moved at all throughout the night. He turned his head so that he could see her face, and he gently placed a kiss on her forehead.

Jace closed his eyes and after a few minutes, he could feel himself start to drift off again. That was, until, a voice jolted him back into consciousness.

"Dude... you're a dead man."

* * *

**Ah! It's a new record! 1.52 THOUSAND views in a single day! Thank you guys so much! I never expected to get so much attention; when I first started I was ecstatic with a hundred views. And really, sorry about the cliffhanger. *tries to stifle smirk* Who do you guys think found Jace and Clary?**

**Reviews? Suggestions? I keep trying to make my chapters longer, so bear with me!**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**So Sorry! I would've updated yesterday by my account glitched out and it wouldn't let me!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Happy Easter! (Alright, so I'm a little late with that one) So I'm thinking about starting a new fanfiction while writing this one. Another Mortal Instruments one, because somehow those are the best to write! Shadowhunter, though, not human. I'm debating between a Clary+ pregnancy one or my version of COHF. Tell me what you think!**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**Disclaimer: All rights go to Cassandra Clare, who for some godforsaken reason is making us wait until City of Heavenly Fire comes out.**

**Oh, and good job for those of you who picked Alec that found Jace and Clary; you were right! And because of that, I present to you... Alec's POV.**

* * *

ALECPOV

_"Dude... you're a dead man."_

The words escaped him before he could stop himself. He couldn't help it. Alec had just gotten up and was on his way to brush is teeth when he noticed that one of the spare rooms' door was slightly ajar. Clary's.

Just to make things clear, Alec didn't hate Clary. Sure, he was wary of her when he had first met her. Those green eyes that were way too observant, pegging him as gay within the first two minutes of their interaction. But he had been impressed. Not many people would be that direct, they rather diverted their looks and mumbled polite excuses. But Clary was real; she never wavered once, and he found that amazingly enjoyable. Better yet, Magnus seemed to like her as well. She just had to make sure not to fall into his boyfriend's sparkly make-over-y clutches, a fatal mistake that Alec had almost made himself.

And then there was Jace. Jace, who he had seen go from a lonely little boy with a traumatizing past to a jackassy jock with a new girl hanging off his every word each day. At first Alec had tried to act like he didn't mind, but slowly Jace's antics started to agitate him more and more. Ok, so Izzy wasn't exactly a role model when it came to relationships either, but then she had met Simon. Izzy had Simon, Alec had Magnus. And Jace had no one. Who did he have? Kaelie? Alec once had a nightmare that she had turned into a raptor and started clawing into his face. He shuddered at the thought.

And then came Clary. Jon's little sister. When Jon had announced to the team that his little sister was coming into town, no one really paid any attention. Until she was actually there. Everyone could see it. Alec was gay and he could see it. Obviously Jon's memory was off, or she was an imposter, because he had described Clary as a, "cherry colored munchkin with a mouth full of metal and a serious vertically challenged genetic disorder." As soon as those words left Jon's mouth, everyone had stopped paying attention, instead going back to discussing what kind of food they should order.

But then she was _there_ and suddenly the old Jace was gone. He stared at her as if there was nothing else that mattered, as if he would never look at another girl again. But Jace being Jace, refused to do anything about it. Instead, he decided to shut off his emotions again, the same thing he did whenever anything became too real for him.

And it had worked... at first. He has stuck his tongue down that bitch's throat, causing Magnus to make some wretched gagging noises, and acted like everything was fine. Jace managed to pull the whole "not caring" thing off for almost the entire week, but he blew it entirely the night before.

Alec had heard them arguing in the living room; Jon looked like he wanted to massacre some innocent townsfolk and Jace looked like he wanted to explode. As Alec listened to Jon's recounting of events, he noticed how Jace's eyes flickered to Clary's face multiple times, his eyes filled with intense worry. Alec couldn't help a small smile, despite the serious situation.

And now he was there, standing in the doorway of the room, staring with his mouth agape as Jace slept soundly next to the still drugged Clary.

As the words spewed from his mouth without warning, Jace shot straight out of the bed and landed agilely blearily looking around, hardly stirring Clary in the process.

"Seriously, man? What is wrong with you? You snuck in here in _the middle of the night_ so you could sleep with Jon's little sister? His _drugged_ little sister? That's sick." The words made their way out of Alec's mouth without his permission.

"Alec, man, you have to listen to me. It's not what it looks like, but it doesn't even matter." Jace's words came out hushed and rapidly. "You _can't _tell Jon."

"W-what?" Alec started stuttering. "You want me to _lie?_"

Jace looked and him pleadingly but he shrugged as if indifferent. "It's not lying. It's not telling the truth. It's... cunningly selective word choice."

He stared at Jace for a long moment. "Fine," he said finally. "I won't tell him." Jace let out a sigh of relief just as another voice spoke up.

"You won't tell who _what_?" It was Jon, scratching his back wearily, but his eyes were trained on Clary. Jace stiffened all over again.

Alec let out a mental sigh of exasperation before he covered for his brother. "Nothing. Just our dad. We probably shouldn't tell him about this whole thing."

Jon rubbed his neck. "Oh. Yeah. Thanks, I guess." Alec waved his hand in a gesture that meant _No problem._

"So... what exactly are you doing in here?" Jon looked from Jace to Alec, then back again. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Just checking to see if she was awake. We were wondering if we should get her home." This time Jace was able to lie without hesitation, to which Alec was supremely grateful.

"Nah," Jon responded casually, "we should probably just wait until she wakes up." He paused for a moment.

"You guys have any food?"

* * *

CPOV

Clary was floating. She drifted aimlessly in the sea of never ending silence. But silence did not exist, so she glided along with the thrum of oblivion, never once feeling unease. She had no sense of how long she remained like that, but she felt the shift as she left the shadows and began to lie in the sun. A small moan of contentment escaped her as the sunlight condensed next to her, shielding her from the darkness. This time without any trepidation, she sunk in to the softness, letting it envelop her.

Eventually the world around her began to solidify around her, and the indistinguishable hum of energy started to separate, breaking into different tones. Voices. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but it didn't matter because they soon faded away. Clary was unable to move; the lead in her body leaving her unbearably slowly.

Finally, for what seemed like days afterwards, her eyes opened to slits. Her head faced the shaded window, but light still bled through. It took a moment in her still foggy brain to process that she had no idea where she was. Lying immobile, she thought back to the last memory she had. School? No, she remembered talking to Izzy. About what? The club? That was it; the harder the tried to recall anything, her thoughts fizzled out into nothingness. The last thing she remembered was getting dressed, and then... nothing.

Clary slowly lifted her head, supporting it with her arm. A wave of nausea ran through her and her vision spiraled for a minute. When it came back into focus, she realized that someone had changed her clothes; the only thing that covered her was on oversized shirt.

She rolled over, stifling a groan when aching pains shot through her body from being still. Her once steady breathing was starting to become uneven, gasps starting to escape her mouth as she sat on the edge of the bed, bracing her elbows on her legs and doubling forward. As her racing heart calmed, Clary raised her head and finally realized where she was. The Lightwoods. Intent on discovering why she was there, Clary made her way to her feet agonizingly slowly, and despite the care she took, a wave of vertigo shot through her, making her stumble. Luckily she caught herself on the wall, and she wrenched herself upright.

Feeling incredibly frustrated and more than a little confused, she staggered to the door and flung it open. Clary walked out to see the hallway empty but voices floating up from the lower level of the house.

Being the klutz she was, Clary couldn't help but trip on the way there. She fell like a plane crashing back down to earth, and she banged her head on the base of the handrail to the stairs in the process. Unable to suppress it this time, Clary let out a pitiful noise that sounded like a combination of a whimper and a cry of pain. Simply giving up, she lay on the floor with her head resting on the ground and her hair covering her eyes.

Seconds later she heard a distinct, "Did you hear that?" that sounded suspiciously like her brother. A chair scraping and multiple pairs of feet walking became clearer, and then a surprised shout followed.

"Clary? Clary, look at me. Are you ok?" Her brother was frantic, and he came to shake her shoulder vigorously.

"No," Clary moaned in a drawn out syllable. "Go away."

A breathy chuckle emanated from him and he hefted her off the ground on carried her downstairs, plopping her on the couch, and holding her up with his arms. She whacked them away. "Get off me," she muttered.

"What? What am I doing here? I can't remember..."

She looked up to see Jon staring at her with a mixture of worry, and surprisingly fury. "What?" She asked, her voice rising in pitch. "What did I do?"

This time it was Jace that answered, stepping up from the corner where he had been standing. "_You_ didn't do anything," he emphasized, making it perfectly clear that someone had.

With that the two boys started to explain, and Clary's eyes grew wider and wider as they did. Jon, however, went from being mildly calm, to slightly agitated, finally settling on the verge of having an aneurysm, based on the way his chest was heaving. He stalked out the door, muttering something that sounded like, "I'll be back."

Jace sat next to her. She turned her gaze to meet his, and she smiled.

* * *

JPOV

When she looked up and smiled, he felt his breath lodge in his throat.

"So, I guess I have you to thank, don't I? For saving me from some terrible fate?"

He cleared his throat. "Um... I think you have Jon to thank for that." Did he just say _um?_ Jace Lightwood did _not _stutter.

Thankfully she didn't seem to mind. Or notice. "Yeah, but still. Thanks." She scooted forward, her legs tucked adorably under her legs, and she placed her tiny hand on his thigh. Immediately Jace began sweating, every part of him on overdrive. "Uh..." He was scrambling to come up with any semblance of a coherent response.

Her voice dropped to a low whisper, one that sent quakes down Jace's spine. "You really aren't the bad guy everybody says you are, Jace. You're so nice. And _hot._ So, _so _hot." By then she had maneuvered herself so that her lips were at his ear, ruffling his golden locks lightly.

His breathing sped further and he turned his head slightly so that their noses were touching. Ever so slowly, she lifted his face to meet hers, her small finger pulling his chin up. A small smile on her face, she lowered her lips to meet his.

And then the spark lit.

* * *

**Ok, so it finally happened. Hurrah, the kiss. Ok, the kiss where Clary wasn't drunk. But surprise, surprise. **_**She **_**kissed **_**him.**_** And what on earth is Clary thinking? Oh, and sorry for cutting it off there, but I felt like I should've.**

**It is ridiculously late where I am, but I wanted to thank all of my readers, especially ones from foreign (or at least foreign to me) countries. It never ceases to amaze me thinking that you guys are reading this from all over the world. Love you guys!**

**Review!**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**Ugh, and really sorry. I totally felt like my writing was off this time around, and this definitely is _not_ my best chapter. By far. I'm working on it, so I hope you guys understand. Writer's block sucks.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys. I know I said that last chapter was pretty poorly written, but... five reviews? I'm aiming for a little more this time around! But hey! I made it to 100 favorites! Yes!**

**Oh, and can anyone explain to me why if someone reviews, sometimes it doesn't pop up until almost two days later? It irritates me. I mean, some of them pop up immediately while others don't. I guess it could be from the time differences between countries? Somehow that seems unlikely.**

**Just wondering,**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments, and I was also too lazy to come up with a more amusing disclaimer.**

**Please excuse any grammar stuff! No, I am not an idiot without proper grammar. I am just incredibly lazy.**

* * *

JPOV

_Ever so slowly, she lifted his face to meet hers, her small finger pulling his chin up. A small smile on her face, she lowered her lips to meet his._

_And then the spark lit._

Instinctively Jace wrapped his hand around her neck and cupped her hair, drawing her closer. His eyes shut, he felt her lips press against his harder. Her small right hand traveled from his chest up to the side of his face, and he couldn't help but shudder in pleasure. Jace's other hand trailed up the side of her leg, and he felt Clary release a breathy giggle. She hooked her leg around his waist so that she was straddling him. They barely came up for air; Jace's hands moved without his permission, circling the girl's tiny waist while her fists tangled in his disheveled locks of hair. Their tongues danced fluidly with each other, alternating between each others mouths.

Every nerve in his body lit up as if they had been dead for the rest of his life. He had never felt like this. _Never._ He murmured incoherently against her mouth and hitched her body up higher, causing her to gasp in surprise.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jace spoke. "We... we should probably... _stop._ He gasped the last part, unable to hold in a small groan as Clary pressed herself on him. He managed to turn his head away, and automatically he wanted to kick himself. Breathing heavily, Clary slowly disentangled herself from Jace. She let herself fall face first onto the other half of the couch, groaning loudly. Jace chuckled despite the instant emptiness and disappointment he felt when Clary's weight left him.

After a few moments of silence, Jace heard Clary sigh. and she propped herself up on her elbows. Still without facing him, she panted out, "I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... God, I shouldn't've... I'm an idiot." With that, she rolled and purposefully fell off the couch, landing with a light thud on the carpeted ground below. She let out a quiet _oomph_ and Jace chuckled again.

Jace racked his brain frantically in an attempt to do _something,_ say _anything_, but he came up blank. Something that had never happened before. He moved closer to her, reaching out to her tangled mess of hair, when Jon, the almighty god of walking in at the worst possible moments, walked back into the room.

Instantly Jace sat back, casually running his fingers through his mussed up hair and self-consciously straightening his shirt.

Jon stared at his sister. "What are you doing on the ground?"

"Dying."

"Okayyy... well we should probably get going." Disappointment washed through Jace, but he kept his mouth shut.

"But I don't want tooo," she drawled her words out, whining like a irritated child. Wordlessly Jon crossed over to where Clary lay, grabbed her ankle, and dragged her towards the front foor, causing her to shriek. He stopped when her realized dragging her made the shirt she was wearing ride up, exposing the rest of her legs, her smooth stomach, and the bottom of her bra. Jace didn't even try to hide his stare.

Clary played dead, lying totally still while her brother picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. "See ya later," he called out to Jace, not even stopping to look back.

* * *

CPOV

_Idiot! Idiot idiot idiot! How could you be so _stupid?_ Why the _hell_ would you _kiss_ Jace? It's the drugs. It's got to have been the drugs, right? Right?_

The thoughts circled their way around Clary's head while her brother drove them home in silence, aside from the blasting radio, which did _not_ help with her raging headache.

Drugged. Marcus had _drugged_ her. What was she supposed to think of that? When she had no recollection of it? When everything was wiped clean as if it had never existed? The only evidence she had was what she was told, and what she heard scared the crap out of her. She had been this close, _this close_, to being another rape case, and she couldn't believe how relieved she was.

But now what was she supposed to do? Go back to school and act like nothing had happened. Try not to have a panic attack every time he walked by her in the hallway? Giving up on thinking, Clary closed her eyes, trying to let her mind go blank.

When they arrived back at their house, Clary dragged her feet up the stairs and through the door, stopping when she saw Jocelyn sitting at the kitchen table.

"Mom," she said flatly.

"Hey, sweetheart." She squinted at her daughter. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Um... too lazy to change," Clary replied lamely, too tired to create a plausible response. "I'll see you later."

The rest of her weekend was dull. It mainly consisted of Isabelle coming over and eating her snacks and invading her room, craftfully dodging any and all contact with Jace, and hardly seeing any of her brother, who had started to cram as much practice time in for soccer as possible. It wasn't until Sunday night that she started freaking out.

"What am I supposed to do, Izzy?" Clary paced around her room anxiously, stopping every once in a while to pull at her hair.

"Ignore him," Izzy shot back simply, "and if he comes anywhere near you, beat the crap out of him. Assuming, you know, you don't get drugged again." She threw in the last bit casually, painting her toenails a bloody red on Clary's bed.

"_Izzy_! That is _so _not helpful! and you better not spill any of that stuff on my bed." She pointed accusingly.

"I really hope that whatever that was is better than it sounds," Simon chimed, in, walking into the room.

Izzy snorted without looking up. "Clary's just a little wound up right now." Now she did look up, and her eyes were bight. "Hey! You should give her one of your massages!" Her eyes cut to Clary. "You haven't _lived _til' you've tried one of Si's massages. Come on, C"

She cast her friend a withering look. "All right."

Simon immediately proceeded to take off his shoes, then he nudged Clary with his toe. "Come on, _C_," he said the name mockingly, and Clary whacked him on the leg, "on your stomach."

She did as she was told, while saying, "Now, I'm curious. Why exactly did you have to get good at massages _after_ I traveled halfway across the world? It could've come in handy, you know." Clary continued on ranting until Simon started, pressing skillfully into her back with his feet, arms, elbows, and hands.

A guttural moan floated from Clary's mouth, earning a giggle from Isabelle.

"Told you," she chimed.

* * *

JONPOV

He was still breathing heavily after a harsh scrimmage with his team, and when he unlocked the door and stepped into his house, all he could hear at firstwas his heartbeat and heavy breathing. His ears adjusted though, and his already sore muscles locked when he heard the sounds vibrating from above him.

"Ohhhh... no, a little to the left, higher, left, yeah. Right _there._ Ughhhh. Hell, Simon." It was his sister, moaning incessantly. With _Simon?_ Hid mind automatically went to _very _bad things. Things her _baby sister_ shouldn't no _anything _about.

Jon half ran up the stairs, skipping two of them with each step. Reaching Clary's door, he flung it open, exclaiming, "I'm gonna kill you, Lewis-"

Simon stood, perching on Clary's back, while Isabelle sat broadly on her bed, messing with a tissue and dabbing at her nails.

He was so taken aback he couldn't even sound mad. "_What_ are you doing on my sister?" At his voice, Clary turned her head to face him.

"Jon, you should try this. Did you know that Simon does massages? Holy crap, he- ohhhhh," she moaned as Simon pressed his knee in between her shoulder blades. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her eyelids fluttered. That was enough for Jon.

"Out," he scowled.

* * *

Clary was on the verge of a panic attack. Anyone could see that. In an effort to conceal it, though, she focused on everything else. Twenty minutes before they left for school, she changed he clothes a total of five times, straightened, curled, then re-curled her hair. She went from going without make-up, to caking it on, then finally scrubbing it off to reapply. Finally satisfied, she came down the stairs looking... exactly the same, if Jon was being honest.

In a subtle attempt to cheer her up, Jon even let her drive. This was a big thing, considering her driving. Jon was amazed she had never gotten in an accident. But it did seem to lift her spirits, albeit only a little, and they sped off to their school.

As they got closer and closer, the harder her hands gripped the steering wheel. Her breath hissed through her teeth as she pulled into the parking lot, so preoccupied that she didn't even notice the gawking stares she received because of her car. As she pulled her key out of the ignition, she let out a barely audible whimper, and Jon wanted to go back and kill Marcus.

He laid his hand gently on Clary's arm, making her flinch. "Hey. Ready?" he asked, his voice abnormally soothing.

"Yeah," she replied with some difficulty, swallowing hard. "Yeah, I'm ready."

* * *

CPOV

_Not ready. So not ready._ Jon thought she was flipping out over Marcus, and she was, but tht wasn't the problem. Not the main problem, at least.

_Jace._ He probably hated her now. She practically _sexually assaulted_ him without any warning, and then disappeared five minutes later.

But the problem was, she wasn't sorry. Sure, she admitted that it could have been done a little more tactfully, considering she pretty much jumped him, but she couldn't stop herself. Clary had always thought the idea of people being drawn together was a load of crap. Bollocks. A sham. And she had never been proven otherwise, until she met Jace. And then everything she had ever known had gone down the toilet. And it scared her.

She walked into the school with her head held high, the words _I don't believe in fate_ beating their way through her in time to her heart.

* * *

She lost it during lunch. Clary made it through an agonizing first half of the day, feeling Jace's stare burning into her back, then bolting before anything bad could happen. But one look, _one frikin' look_, sent her over the edge. As she sat at her lunch table and tried to look like she was paying attention, she turned her head. Just a slight shift of her head to the right and a ruffle of her hair, and then she was staring straight into gold. Jace stared back at her, his eyes never leaving her face. It lasted for two, three seconds at the most, before she broke eye contact, her breathing low and quick.

"I gotta go," she muttered to the rest of her table, before she walked out of the room, trying to make it look like she wasn't running.

She was only alone two minutes before Izzy found her. She knew who it was automatically despite not looking. Her head rested on the cool tile of the bathroom wall.

"Hey, are you ok? You just-"

"I kissed him," Clary blurted out, unable to keep it from her friend any longer. "I kissed him, Iz. I _kissed_ Jace." She finally lifted her head to look at Isabelle, afraid at what her reaction would be.

"_And?_" she asked, as if she were waiting for Clary to elaborate.

"And _what?_ You're not mad? Shocked? Mad?"

"You said mad twice," Izzy pointed out, and Clary waved it away.

Izzy snorted, totally amused. "Mad? Why would I be mad? Because you took this long to tell me? Eh, maybe. But shocked? Really, C? I walk into the living room and Jace is there, breathing like an asthmatic trapped in an old attic with hair that made it look like he stuck his finger into an electrical socket? What did you _expect _me to think?"

Clary stood, totally agape, staring at Izzy. 'You _knew?_ And you didn't bother to _say anything?_ I've been freaking out for days and you fail to mention this until _now?_ I hate you, Izzy."

"Aw, I already knew that, C," she smiled and cavalierly threw an arm over Clary's shoulders. "Come on, girl. Let's go make big brother crazy."

* * *

**What'd you think? I've been slacking on my updating, so I'll try to catch up. Also, one question that I'm really curious to know the answer of: Based on my writing, how old would you say I am? Let's just disregard the fact that I said I was in school in my other A/N. Solely based on my writing, how old would you think I would be? Congrats if you get it right, but that would be kind of weird. And amazing.**

**Review and answer!**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**No! To whom it may concern: If you are that one person who un-favorited me, turning me from 100 back to 99 favorites, I have just one question. Why? *overdramatic clutching at chest and sobbing***


	12. Chapter 12

**Goodbye beloved vacation, I hate you, school. Yup, so school's back again, which means that I'll once again be swamped with loads of stupid stuff, but I'll try to update pretty consistently. And yes! Made it to over 200 followers! **

**Concerning my age, I'm not going to reveal the actual number, because while rather intriguing, I would rather not be stalked. The idea is quite fascinating, though. You've got to admit it. But I **_**will**_** say that some of you were pretty darn close. And no, Lauren Vaughan, I am not offended. 13 year olds... that's what, 8th grade? Not to bad, considering I skipped a grade. Ah, me and my unintentional overachieve-y-ness. **

**As for the guest reviewer "lover", well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?**

**nicoleherondale: Thanks for that. I've only been on this site for about a month, and I am severely technologically handicapped, so...**

**Disclaimer: ****Judith Rumelt owns The Mortal Instruments, but I too will own a best-selling series one day (hopefully), so she can have it.**

* * *

_"Come on, girl. Let's go make big brother crazy."_

JPOV

He couldn't stop thinking about it. About her. He found himself looking everywhere for her, despite the fact that she was nowhere around. Whenever he heard someone laughing, his head whipped around; whenever he saw a glimmer of anything red, his eyes instinctively searched to see if Clary was attached to it. Jace was losing his mind.

After nearly losing his mind deciding if he wanted to confront her, he realized he didn't really have a choice, now did he? It wasn't like this whole situation would disappear if he ignored it, no matter how badly he wanted to. And then he'd finally manned up to deal with this whole insane situation, but she was nowhere to be found.

The rest of Jace's weekend was spent trying to get a hold of Clary, but she always managed to elude him. But he couldn't avoid her at school.

So here he was, sitting in Old Man Blackthorn's class, staring at Clary's back as she hunched over and scribbled something in her notebook. Trying very hard _not_ to look like a madman, he scrutinized her closely, looking for any indicators that she was as shaken up as he was. There were none. Instead she sat forward, her eyes never once flickering behind her.

As soon as the bell rang, he reached out, hoping to talk to her, but she bolted before he could. The rest of the day went similarly. He couldn't tell if she was intentionally avoiding him, and he hoped like hell that she wasn't, but he couldn't be sure.

By the time lunch hit, his frustration was high enough that he was considering just blowing school and going somewhere where he could punch something.

_One last try._ He wanted to hit something yeah, but it was probably going to end up being himself. Why on earth was he trying so hard? More than anything else, he wanted to go back to being old Jace. Jackass-y Jace. The one that didn't give a damn about anything and _definitely_ didn't act like an insecure whiny bitch pining over some crush. Except he couldn't. Because of one freckly-skinned baby sister redhead, he had been irrevocably changed. He couldn't go back.

He sat impatiently on a radiator near one of the windows in one of the empty science labs; he knew it wasn't used in the afternoons. Not even two minutes later, he heard the soft click of the door as the handle turned and the small _whoosh_ of air it created when it shut just as quietly.

Jace closed his eyes, but didn't turn towards the source of the sound. "Jace?" The voice was just a shadow of a breath, bit it resonated through the room, making him shudder almost imperceptibly. "Jace, what is this?"

At that he turned to look at her, and he spotted the phone that she held out to him, displaying the text he had sent her.

"Where did you even get my number?" Her voice was a jumble of confusion and anxiety.

Instead of answering her questions, Jace leaned his head back against the wall. Without any preamble, he delved right into the topic of interest.

"You slept over my house." His words were simply matter of fact. Not accusatory. But as he stared steadily into Clary's eyes, he saw a fleeting moment of wariness before she covered it up with a sardonic comment.

"Why yes, Jace. Yes, I did." Her voice dripped with faux astonishment. Then she leaned forward. "You want to hear a secret? You have a brother. Two of them, actually."

For a moment Jace stared at her until she snorted. "I'm sorry. I thought we were just spouting some random and obvious facts." She leaned back and smirked.

He mirrored her action with one of his one, and he ran his hand through his tangle of curls, fighting the urge to smile when she saw Clary's throat move as she swallowed nervously.

"I wasn't finished. You slept over, Clary. And then you kissed me." _Now_ he was done.

"I... don't remember that." She only stumbled over her words once, her breath hitching midway through the lie.

Jace laughed once without humor. "Seriously? That's the excuse you're going with? _'I don't remember'?_

Clary shrugged casually. "Short-term memory loss?" She said it hopefully but with any real conviction in her voice.

Finally standing up, Jace made his way over to where Clary stood, towering over her. "You can't avoid this forever, you know."

"Avoid what?" Her voice shot up a few pitches, and he saw the look of defeat in her eyes.

"This," he said, and he leaned down to kiss her.

Kissing Clary was annoying. She only came up to his chest, making him bend over for him to get anywhere near her lips. It was worth it though, when Jace felt her gasp in surprise before pressing her lips back to his. Growing impatient and uncomfortable as he kept leaning over, Jace pushed her to the side without breaking his hold on her. There was a loud scraping noise as one of the desks lurched forward when Clary's back hit it; she simply jumped onto it, making their heights a little more even.

For the second time, Clary pulled back. "What are you doing?" Her words came out breathy and her eyes were shut. As if she couldn't support her own weight, she leaned her head forward so that it was resting on Jace's shoulder.

Jace chuckled but couldn't suppress the jolt of electricity that shot through him as he felt Clary's hair tickling his neck. "I thought it was pretty obvious."

"You _know _what I mean. Besides, people are going to be back in here pretty soon." She drew away from him. "We should-" she hiccupped adorably in the middle of her sentence, "We should go."

As soon as she said, it the warning bell blared out, signifying they only had five minutes before class began. Startled, Clary lurched to her feet.

Already heading towards the door, Jace snagged her wrist and spun her around, making her gasp.

"This is _not_ over," he growled with conviction. And then his default cool demeanor returned to him, and he smiled and winked. Immediately in response Clary's face blushed a bright scarlet, and her still uneven breathing wavered.

Wanting to get even, he walked out first this time, leaving her standing alone.

* * *

IZZYPOV

"You did _what?_" Izzy couldn't believe what she was hearing. Ok, so she could believe it; she just didn't want to.

Clary and Izzy stood in gym, hardly paying any attention as a game of handball ensued before them.

"I was weak, Izzy! He just- and then I- and he..." Clary trailed off hopefully her hand gestures cutting off and her hand falling against her leg with a sharp slap.

Izzy shook her head slowly but smiled. "What are we going to do with you?"

Clary cast her a withering look, and Izzy snickered in response.

Plan fix Clary: commence!

* * *

**Ugh, you guys, I'm really sorry. Something's been off with me for the last couple weeks and I could just **_**not**_** write this. Today was not my day, people. **

**1.) Math Test.**

**2.) Forgot homework at home.**

**3.) Someone stole my phone.**

**My **_**phone. **_**Someone **_**took **_**my PHONE. Steal my money for God's sake, but stealing a phone? That's just unethical. Basically here's what happened:**

**1.) Put phone in gym locker. Close locker.**

**2.) Goes to gym class.**

**3.) Returns.**

**4.) Missing phone. **

**So that people, was the story of my day. And **_**then**_** was my math test, which I could totally not focus on because I was pretty much naked without my phone. Also: My fanfiction account was open on my phone, so if someone screws with my page, story, account, etc, (or if something really sketchy appears) blame the assholes at my school.**

**Review!**

**Sorry about the relatively short chapter. I know some of you were hoping for some evil Izzy plotting, which will happen, but I needed my Clace! Longer next time!**

**Oh, get this. And **_**then,**_** my mom texts my phone, asking for whoever took it to return it. *facepalm* Yes, mother. Because a burglar will listen to that suggestion.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hahaha! Ok, to those of you who were actually interested in what I got on my math test, I got a B. (I don't know how they grade things in... other places of the world that are not near me. lol. Sorry.) Which isn't **_**terrible**_**, so... whatever. But then again, I took another one today...**

**To rats xp: Cassandra Clare's real name **_**is**_** Judith Rumelt. CC is her pen name!**

**Thank you guys for your awesome reviews and your support for the theft of my phone, which I am still, but slightly less, pissed off about. No one has returned it. *gasp* I wonder why, mom?**

**Enjoy!**

**ImpossibleSociety (Forgot to put that in the last chapter. Oh well.)**

**Disclaimer: In less than a month, City of Heavenly Fire comes out (sorry for those who don't live in America; is the release date different? Probably.), which Cassandra Clare, along with the rest of The Mortal Instruments, owns. Not me.**

* * *

_Plan fix Clary: commence!_

IZZYPOV

This plan was going to _rock._

"Izzy, this is stupid," Clary whined. The two of them stood outside in the rising heat of the day, and they were already beginning to sweat.

"Come on, C. This is totally going to work." Izzy stepped back and appraised what Clary was wearing. A pair of almost nonexistent shorts and a plain black sports bra were pasted onto her figure, exposing the majority of her flat abdomen and smooth legs. Her hair was pulled up into a simple ponytail at the top of her head, some of her curls frizzing slightly at the ends.

"Stop staring at me!" Clary hissed and Izzy cackled, amused by her self-consciousness.

Discreetly she saw Clary pulling her sports bra up higher, trying to cover her semi-exposed cleavage. Immediately Izzy slapped her hands away. "Stop it! Those are a valuable asset." She nodded towards Clary's chest and Clary couldn't conceal the blush that flushed though her entire body.

"_Izzy!_" Clary complained again, but this time she drew the name out in an exasperated breath. "That is _not _an asset. I'm a midget. A flat chested midget. I _have_ no boobs."

Isabelle snickered. "Jace is a guy. Doesn't even matter." She placed her hands defiantly on her hips, as if daring her friend to challenge her. Of course being Clary, she couldn't help it.

"Of course _you _would say that. Look at you, and then look at me."

At Clary's statement, Izzy looked down to inspect herself. She hated to brag. Really, she promised she did, but she looked damn good. Like Clary, she wore a pair of dark shorts and a deep purple sports bra. In her hand was a small spray bottle filled with lukewarm water.

"Follow me," Izzy commanded, then turned on her heel to march to their huge backyard.

The back of the Lightwood house was almost as impressive as the inside. A vast carpet of plush green grass covered the surface area of the yard, leaving space for a few trees and paving stones.

Two beach chairs were set up next to each other in the middle of the space, a stack of magazines and a pitcher of lemonade set next to it on a small circular table.

Clary rolled her eyes. "Someone came prepared." The two of them trudged over to the chairs and promptly sat down. Izzy leaned back and closed her eyes. It wasn't two minutes later until Clary spoke, breaking Izzy's moment of peace. "You do realize he's going to see us, don't you?"

Sighing, Izzy sat back up and turned her attention towards the stressed-out looking girl next to her.

"Hardly anyone ever comes back here. Hell, I'm not even sure Jace has _seen_ the backyard before. We'll be fine." With that, Izzy flopped back down onto her chair. Despite her grumbles, Clary did the same.

After around fifteen minutes of peaceful quiet and easy sunbathing, there was the muffled sound of a car engine as it pulled up the lengthy driveway and cut off soon after.

_Show time._

Isabelle shot straight up out of her chair and turned to hover over Clary, blocking her sunlight and making her make a noise of annoyance. "Come _on._ Jace is back."

Immediately Clary looked uncomfortable. "Izzy..." Clary hedged, slowly rising up and rubbing her neck awkwardly.

Her exasperation was peaking. Honestly, Isabelle liked Clary. But where was that spark of evil that Isabelle had seen when they had met? Then she'd gone all soft when she met Jace. _Ugh._ Even so, she still wanted them together. For the most part. The other, more petty side of her, shuddered at the thought of her friend dating her brother. _Those are the breaks,_ she thought, mentally shrugging it off.

"Really, it's _not_ that hard to understand. Now get up," she commanded. Impatient, she yanked Clary up, almost toppling because of the excessive force. "Let's do this."

Mischievously twirling that spray bottle in her hand, she sprayed Clary directly in the face without any warning.

Surprised, Clary blinked and made a little gagging sound before she glared at Izzy. "What?" she asked innocently.

It wasn't even that bad. The spray that came out of the container was just a mist; it wasn't as if she hat shot a water jet at her. But that was the point.

With a few more squirts, she covered up and down Clary's arm, she exposed abdomen, and sprayed her neck and face again for good measure. Not forgetting herself, Izzy repeated the procedure, aiming the nozzle at her own face. The two were quickly covered in a fine mist of water, something that Izzy hoped looked authentically like the beginning of sweat.

"Alright. Good. So now look like you're flushed."

"Izzy, what the hell? How am I supposed to do that?" Clary spot back, growing more and more agitated.

Isabelle shrugged, unrepentant. An idea shot into he mind, and she waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Think about Jace. You know... you and him?" She trailed off in an obvious hint. Almost instantly, a red hue colored her face and neck, and Isabelle fought the urge to burst out laughing.

"Come on," she said, and she couldn't help the little giggle that escaped her. Clary glowered.

Making their way to the front of the house, Isabelle noisily opened the front door and stepped in, slamming it behind the two of them. Babbling some nonsense about a nonexistent assignment they had, she spoke loudly to alert a certain _someone_ in the house they were there. Clary responded, admittedly more hesitantly than Izzy, but she answered nonetheless. _Yes. She was playing along._

They made their way around the house, circling through the kitchen and dining room, stopping when they heard the sound of animated violence blaring from the TV in the living room. A sudden gunshot rang out amidst the other sounds, and Jace let out a quiet "Yes!" Isabelle snickered.

Towing Clary, the pair strolled into the room. Jace's eyes were focused intently on the screen in front of him, his thumbs moving over the controller in his hands rapidly. As soon as the girls came closer, he spotted them out of his peripheral vision, and instinctively his eyes flicked over to where they stood. And they didn't move back to the screen.

She almost lost it right then. Using a massive amount of self-control, which was rare for her, Isabelle restrained herself from falling to the ground and laughing hysterically.

She had never seen Jace at a loss of words before. But there he was, his mouth agape, the only sound coming out was a faint, "Um..." A small explosion sound emanated from the TV, and finally Jace tore hi gaze away from the girls.

"Crap!" He had just been killed.

"Hey, J" Isabelle greeted him in her oh-so-innocent voice. "What's up?"

"Uh..." he stuttered once, incoherently.

_Point: Isabelle. Or was it Clary? ... Score!_

* * *

JPOV

He was _winning._ Absolutely dominating the other players on the screen. After the entirely crappy day he had been having, he needed to do something fun. Shoving Kaelie off his lap, then pushing her _off_ his _face,_ his morning was really irritating him. So he had finally started to calm down

Then... Hot damn. Clary was there, and then he had to get all flustered and agitated again. But in all fairness, she was dressed like _that._ Like _that._ Did half-naked even count as dressed? Then the suspicion set in. Isabelle _hated_ exercising. Or any physical activity for that matter. The most tiring thing Jace had ever seen her do was walk around the mall for six hours in ridiculously tall stilettos. So why did she look like she had been sweating?

Some part of his mind thought of those questions, but the greater portion of his attention was caught on Clary. Isabelle's words were a hum in the background while he tried to ignore the temptation standing across the room. His eyes jerking back to the screen as a noise popped out, he realized he had just gotten blown up. _Thanks, Clary._

Her pealing laugh echoed throughout the room, and ignoring his pulse as it started to speed up, he turned and cocked his eyebrow at her. "Something funny?" he asked.

Clary held her hands up in a placating gesture. "Hey, don't blame me." He blamed her. "But you should've seen that coming from a mile away."

"What?" Jace was dumbfounded.

She stomped over and snatched the controller out of his hands. Almost imperceptibly, Jace's breathing became labored. She was _right there_. Just a foot away; he could reach his hand out and touch her exposed skin and...

"I could kick your ass any day." At that, Jace broke out of his slightly inappropriate reverie and met her challenging gaze.

"Is that so?"

* * *

**What'd you think?**

**Attention: There is a poll on my page! Please answer, because I really want to know what you guys like best!**

**Right now I'm running on about four hours of sleep, so I'm basically incoherent at this point. Leave me a comment or PM me and I'll get back to you as soon as I'm fully functional. **_**Beeep.**__**"To leave a message, press 4. To favorite story, press 7. To..." **_

**Sorry. But seriously. Incoherent right now. Delirious.**

**One more thing. Is Jace too... girly? Not enough a manwhore/jerk? Too emotional? Lemme know!**

**I.S.**

**P.S. Sorry for any grammar mistakes! I should really look into getting a beta...**


	14. Chapter 14

***Squeals like a prepubescent boy* 2.06 Thousand views in a day! Thank you guys so much!**

**I've been busy, but I ****_finally_**** got a new phone (an iPhone, yes!), so I am up and running on the go. **

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments belongs to Cassandra Clare, along with its plot, characters, ideas, etc. No copyright infringement intended, yada, yada, yada.**

**It's out. It's out it's out it's out it's out IT'S OUT. City of Heavenly Fire. And it's amazing. Don't be one of those people. You know, those people who spill the ending and ruin it for everyone else. That's not cool, man. That's not cool. But in order to get my book, I took an unnecessary trip the post office, and may have sort of stalked my mail main. Legitimately, I was on my bike looking for him. And I found him. And got my book. Win.**

**A small shout out to guest reviewer "Myself". Thanks so much! It's great to know that people have been following my story since the very beginning of my fanfiction writing career. **

**Yes, this is my first fanfiction. I'm a newbie.**

* * *

_"I could kick your ass any day." At that, Jace broke out of his slightly inappropriate reverie and met her challenging gaze._

_"Is that so?"_

JPOV

"Definitely." Clary looked him dead in the eyes, and Jace struggled not to let his gaze wander back down to her chest.

As if she ruled the house, Clary flopped down on the length of the couch, her head lolling on the armrest and right sock-clad foot draping over Jace's lap.

He made a small sound of disgust in the back of his throat. Good-naturedly, he shoved his leg off of him and got up. Shaking his head, Jace strode across the room to retrieve another controller. "You're asking for it, you know."

"Am I?" The girl on the couch lazily raised one coppery eyebrow.

"Obviously you're underestimating my skill," he retorted, letting his signature arrogance seep heavily into his voice. "Anyone with looks like me must be good at everything."

"Ok, one." Clary stood, waving her controller in the air angrily. "That logic isn't logic. Two. Prove it. Come on. One game."

Jace stared at her incredulously. "Really, Red? Are you _daring_ me? Not very mature of you, now is it?"

"No one ever said I was mature. And I don't really care if I'm not. Because you know what?" A dangerous glint started to form in her eyes. She stepped forward to that she was chest to chest with Jace, and it took all of his willpower not to stare down. Instead he smirked.

"I like to _win._" They both fell silent for a moment before Clary whirled on her heel, slapping Jace's arm. "Bring it on Lightwood."

* * *

Four rounds and twenty-five minutes later, an array of heart-attack worthy snacks were spread around in a semi-circle on the living room floor. Inside of the arc lay Clary and Jace, both of the attention entirely on the screen in front of them. The sun had almost gone down completely, the television casting an eerie glow on their faces.

He was losing. He was _losing._ Jace Lightwood did not lose. _Especially_ not to a girl. But he should've known better than to underestimate Clary. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her fingers fly across the controller effortlessly; the only noise coming from her was the clicking of plastic against plastic as she rapidly pushed buttons, taking out everything on screen.

Isabelle had taken off five minutes later after they started playing. "I just don't see what's so great about imaginary killing. If anything, do it in real life." Jace couldn't tell if she was joking. So with that, she walked away, leaving the two of them alone.

They didn't talk. They didn't need to. As soon as Clary shot Jace, they had restarted wordlessly. Growing more frustrated each time he died, they had switched from attacking _each other_, metaphorically, of course, to teaming up.

Stopping only once to get food, they barely moved. They sat together in silence, and for once, Jace didn't mind.

* * *

She had fallen asleep. The two of them had eventually given up on video games and instead just lounged on the couch to watch TV. Much to Jace's disappointment, Clary had changed out of her "workout attire", instead opting for a pair of cotton shorts and loose t-shirt. Not even twenty minutes after they started watching TV, Clary's eyes had gently fluttered shut, her breathing becoming even and her legs growing heavier, at least to Jace, who has his lap covered with them.

Glancing at the clock, the bright red numbers 12:03 stared back at him. As slowly as possible, Jace slipped himself out from underneath Clary's slumbering form. Twitching slightly, Clary mumbled incoherently, causing Jace to freeze. As soon as she settled back down, Jace tore himself away from her as quickly as possible, going with the theory of pulling off a Band-Aid. The more quickly it was done, the less pain, or in this case, waking up, there would be. Successful, Jace huffed out a small sigh of relief, wincing when he stood up fully, straightening his spine. He stood over her for a long moment, watching her sleep, _in a totally un-Edward Cullen way._ One hand was draped delicately on her chest, rising and falling slowly in time to her breaths. Her silky hair appeared to be almost auburn in the dim lighting of the television.

Jace knelt, one knee raised as if he were about to propose. Gently as he could, he slid his arms underneath her body, one to support her neck and the other in the crease of her knees. Silently muttering under his breath, he lifted her, attempting not to jostle her. It didn't work.

Half-conscious, Clary struggled weakly in Jace's arms.

Once again, Jace's muscles locked in place. Finally straightening when he assumed Clary had fallen back asleep, he almost lost his hold on her when she let out a terrified shriek. And then he _did _drop her, when she spastically jerked in his arms, causing him to almost fall backwards onto his ass. Instead, Clary, still not fully awake, shakily stood but managed to knee Jace in the stomach. Immediately his breath whooshed out of him, causing him to double forward. If he hadn't been so surprised, he might've been able to defend himself. But stunned as he was, for a red haired midget was attacking him, admittedly a very attractive midget, he couldn't even process a response.

Continuing her assault, Clary grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, creating a lot more pressure than one might expect from someone that barely reached five feet. Her knee slammed into Jace again, this time in the small of his back, causing him to topple forward, groaning as he went. As if instinctively, Clary somehow managed to flip him over and straddled him, her small hands pinning his big ones above his head.

Blinking sleepily and breathing heavily, the last traces of sleep vanished from Clary and her eyes cleared. She suddenly realized whom exactly she was sitting on.

"Jace?" she asked. Still panting, she attempted to catch her breath, bending over slightly and removing her hands from Jace's arms, instead placing them on his chest. He hoped she didn't realize how his breathing sped up along with hers so that they were almost at the same pace. "What are you doing?"

"_Me?_" Jace responded flabbergasted. "_I_ was being the gentleman, as usual," he boasted, ever arrogant, "but _you,_ at that his voice turned accusatory, "decided to _attack me._ I'm the victim in this scenario."

Clary stared. "Oh. Um... sorry?" It came out as a question.

Despite their incriminating position, Jace couldn't help but smile. He was acutely aware of how close they were to each other. He could just lift his head a little, and their faces would meet...

"What the hell?" _Jon._

_Crap._

* * *

JPOV

His leg bounced up and down nervously as he checked his phone for what felt like the hundredth time.

_No new messages. No new calls._

Why hadn't she called him? It was probably nothing; there was nothing to worry about at the Lightwood's house.

That was two hours ago. Now that midnight had just passed, Jon had taken up pacing back and forth. Unable to wait any longer, he snatched his car keys off of a hook on the wall and headed out, shrugging on his jacket as he went.

He had been swamped lately. The fact that their mother was almost never around just added to the stress. He would expect that without any parents breathing down his neck things would be easy, but if anything, it just made things harder.

Jon needed people. He hated to admit it. But he _needed_ someone to tell him what to do when he had no idea what to think. He needed someone to be able to see through the walls he had built and look at him. But there was only one person that could do that. Clary.

He loved her. That was obvious to anyone. He was her brother; of course he was protective of her. The truth was, he needed her. He was depending on her, hoping she would never change. He always wanted her to be the same girl that looked at him as if he were the sun rising. And he didn't want anyone to get in the way of that.

He pulled up to the Lightwood's house, efficiently pulling out the hidden key stuck in the doorjamb and twisted the lock, letting himself in. No one would mind anyway. As he walked into the foyer, he heard the muffled sounds of a TV playing some commercial. Assuming it was Clary and Isabelle, he walked in.

It wasn't what he was expecting. Instead he found his sister. His sister, who was, in a very unlady-like fashion, positioned on top of Jace, who was staring at her, his normally intimidating yellow eyes dark enough to be considered black. Their faces were mere inches apart.

A ripple of shock ran through Jon, followed instantly by disgust, then mild annoyance, and finally a somewhat disappointed resignation. _It was bound to happen anyway._

Despite his inner thoughts, the first thing that popped out of his mouth was, "What the hell?"

Both their heads jerked towards the sound at an almost comical pace, and Clary disentangled herself from Jace faster than she ate chocolate. And believe Jon, the way she inhaled it was _not _humanly possible.

Jace jumped to his feet just as Clary started to explain, "It wasn't what it looked like-"

Before she could continue, Jon held up his hand. "Do you not know how many times I called you, Clarissa?" She hated when he used her first name.

A spark of anger lit in her eyes, but her voice still held remorse. "I fell asleep." She shrugged guiltily.

"Oh, so you were, 'asleep'?" He punctuated the words with sarcastic air quotes.

His sister's green eyes were always easy to read; at least to him they were. At the moment they blatantly showed her guilt, looking they was she did when she was caught wearing their mom's makeup when she was ten.

Internally he felt a little bad about causing her those emotions, but the worse part of him didn't care. He kept his face stony. Just because Jace and Clary were inevitable didn't mean Jon had to accept it. As he met Jace's gaze for a millisecond, every girl that Jace had screwed over flashed tough Jon's mind. He wasn't going to let that happen to his sister. Not if he had anything to say about it.

* * *

**I'm ****_so _****sorry! I know it's been forever since I've last updated! It's just that everything has been all... ooky for the past few weeks, so next time this happens, just... yell at me or something. You know, in a totally non jerky way. Like, "Hey, what the hell is wrong with you? Update!" Ok, just kidding. Sort of. And I'm sorry, but not surprised, if I've lost a lot of readers, but a great amount of love to those of you who continue to look out for my updates!**

**So City of Heavenly Fire. How can I describe it without giving anything away? I expected it to be... epic. I ****_needed _****it to be a book that put all others to shame, but it wasn't, and it made me sad. Disappointed. It was ****_good. _****Excellent, even. I can say without question that Cassandra Clare is fantastic. But to me it felt like she spent the entire time setting up The Dark Artifices, taking away from the main plot. This is just my personal opinion, so please, spare me the "fuck you, you bitch" comments. PM me and I'll reply, whether it be about my story or COHF. Thanks! (Although if I'm being honest , I might've wept very pathetically at the end.)**

**Review!**

**ImpossibleSociety**

**Just in case any of you are interested, there's a poll on my page considering what POV you want to see most! Jace has the top spot right now! (Surprising? Nope!) Vote if you want someone else's POV!**

**And in case you were disappointed with the lack of an explosive reaction Jon had (which was to pretty much nothing), just you wait! Possible Jon/Jace fight coming up? Yes? No?**


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